


Triptocaine Blues

by Phantazmagoria



Category: Heavy Rain
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Case Fic, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 55,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantazmagoria/pseuds/Phantazmagoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ethan escapes from the police in the Fugitive Chapter, Norman Jayden has an opportunity to investigate the scene and discover some clues that send him down an entirely different path in the hunt for the Origami Killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Fuck! I can't believe you let that bastard get away!"

Norman Jayden sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest as much from frustration as to keep warm. He stood in the rain watching his partner, Lieutenant Blake, pacing and swearing up a storm. _Partner…_ Jayden shook his head. _That isn't exactly the right word for it, is it?_

"Take it easy, Blake. It isn't the end of the world. We've still got options."

"Options!? Why don't you wait until your balls have dropped, then come talk to me about options."

Jayden's jaw flexed and his hands balled into fists. "Hey, just because you don't have a suspect on hand to punch in the face –"

Blake turned and grabbed Jayden by the shirt with both hands, shaking him and lifting up until his toes barely scraped the ground. "Listen to me, you little piece of shit… This is a real crime and it takes REAL police work to solve real crimes. If you can't handle it, go back home and cry to your mommy."

Blake shoved him hard and Jayden stumbled, trying to catch his footing. He hit the ground hard, rain from the gutter splashing up to drench his suit. He sat there for a moment, looking up at Blake with fury in his pale eyes, jaws grinding. "Yeah," he muttered. "Like that was real mature."

Blake smirked and waved to the other police officers still on scene. "Come on, boys. Let's wrap it up." He calmly smiled at Jayden, then got into the car, put it in gear and drove off. The other police officers were doing the same. Jayden shook his head and got to his feet.

_Well, there goes MY ride… Maybe it's for the best. It'll give me time to look around undisturbed._

He tried to shake the water from his shoes to no avail, then sighed in disgust. He pulled his glasses out of his inside jacket pocket and slipped them on, sighing with relief as the world lit up in augmented light. This was better. He slipped the glove on. This made sense. He flexed his hand and the familiar pulse swept out, igniting the scene in bright colors.

"ARI comment. Scene of interest number twenty three. Apartment where suspect Ethan Mars was tracked down and confronted by police. Suspect escaped through subway, aided by unidentified white female, brunette, five foot seven to five foot eight inches in height, hundred twenty pounds approximate weight. Female suspect rides what seems to be a custom built Yamaha Virago motorcycle. No production data found on this particular model. Plates are registered to…"

Jayden waved a hand and pulled up a file. "…Madison Paige, aged 27. Photojournalist. No criminal record. Huh."

_What's a journalist doing with Ethan Mars? She wouldn't be helping him with the murders… would she? Maybe she has information that I don't… Likely._

Jayden glanced at the motorcycle again.

_No sense impounding it, really. If Blake wants to do "real" police work, that's his business. I have to do this my way._

"ARI comment. Footprints from the motorcycle to the door of the apartment are female size eight and half… footprints from suspect's car to the door are men's size nine. They do NOT match the footprints found at the crime scene where Jeremy Bowles' body was found."

_Take that Blake. Ethan Mars ISN'T the killer._

"Fingerprints on the door belong to Madison Paige and Ethan Mars. No other prints discernible."

Jayden pushed open the door. He hadn't had time to look around much when they were chasing Ethan down, but now he could take a good look. Beneath the white glow of the added reality interface, he could see this place was a dump. Not fit for sewer rats. Obviously nobody had lived here in a very long time. He glanced over the moldy and disused furnishings, the old boxes and the rusty bike in the corner.

There was nothing down here except the window they'd escaped from. Nothing to explain what Ethan Mars was doing here.

He made his way down the hallway and up the stairs, careful not to step on any that didn't look safe. He wasn't sure he trusted this building. The first thing he saw at the top of the stairs were the lizards on the floor.

"These are different… "

He bent down to look one over.

"Comment, the floor is covered in brand new porcelain lizards. Three appear to have been smashed recently. No fingerprints, nothing distinguishing. Porcelain used is also common and undistinguished. These aren't going to get me anywhere."

He stood, going to the door down the hall. The door with the bright painted lizard. Strange. He gently pushed it open and caught his breath. There was fresh blood everywhere. Jayden swayed a little as he stood there, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to calm down. It didn't help. The coppery smell of the blood made his stomach twist.

"ARI comment. Blood is type AB Neg. Matches Ethan Mars' blood type. In all likelihood belongs to him."

Had Ethan Mars been injured as he ran from the police? Not in this room. Not by the police. He had caught a glimpse of the girl supporting him as they ran out into the street. He must have been injured before they arrived.

Jayden opened his eyes. "Bloody hatchet on the table, possible cause of suspect's injury. Also, piece of wood with…" Jayden picked up the piece of wood, looking at both sides before putting it down. "With what appear to be teeth marks indented into it. Fingerprints on the hatchet belong to Mars."

He frowned. "The mobile device is interestingly out of place here." He picked up the piece of equipment and began tapping buttons. The device had been remote accessed from a wireless source outside of the apartment. The connection had been severed, there would be no hope of tracing whoever had accessed it. Perhaps the forensics lab would be able to pull off the data of whatever message had been sent, but that would take time and time is one thing they were running out of. But, it had been recording something recently… Jayden pressed play and almost instantly regretted it.

The tinny screams and the images coming from the device made his head swim. "I think I'm going to be sick..." He quickly pulled his glasses off and closed his eyes, pressing the palm of his free hand to his forehead. Such a horrible headache… He couldn't worry about that now. He was missing something. There had to be something here.

"Why would you do that, Ethan? Why would you cut off your own finger? Was it to prove something?"

_Oh, shit… Maybe… maybe…_

Jayden quickly left the small little room and ran outside into the rain. The cool water was a relief, but that's not why he was out here. Mars' car… He opened the driver's side door and got in. He leaned over to the passenger seat. There had to be something… He rifled through the glove box, gas receipts, record of oil change, registration…

_Nothing!_

Jayden leaned back in the seat and slapped the steering wheel, frustrated.

_Why would you cut off your finger, Ethan? Did the Origami Killer tell you to? Did he tell you that you could save your son? Damn it!_

Jayden took a breath and let it out. His pulse was rising. Not good. He could feel his heart beating faster and the world started to go out of focus. Control! He just needed to stay in control!

The apartment. The Origami Killer had to be able to control the apartment if he was going to set up a situation where he could record Ethan Mars cutting off his finger. To have control, he had to rent the apartment from somebody. He didn't know why he didn't think of that before. He put on his glasses and began searching for records.

There it was! The apartment on Marble Street belonged to a man named Adrian Baker.

Jayden smiled. Finally getting somewhere. If the Origami Killer rented this apartment, then maybe this Baker person knew who he was. He'd have to go pay a visit.

But first… first he would have a taxi take him to the hotel to change into some dryer clothes. His clothes were drenched and he was so cold… His hands were shaking and his head was swimming. Probably from the withdrawal, but it was very possible it was from being cold and wet all the time. If he kept going through suits like this, his dry cleaning bill would cost more than the hotel.

Then he had to pick up his car from the station.

_Blake, that damned son of a bitch..._

Jayden ground his teeth and took a calming breath. At least he was finally on the right track.

* * * * *


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that Jayden noticed when he parked his car on the street was that someone had already beat him to Adrian Baker's house.

"Madison Paige… what the hell are you doing here?" She wasn't anywhere to be seen, but it was hard to disguise her distinctive motorcycle. She must have backtracked to the scene and collected it while he had returned to the hotel.

_Are you looking for the Origami Killer, too?_

He pulled on his ARI glasses and stepped out of the car. Sure enough, her footprints led up to the front door. They didn't come out. She must still be inside. Walking up to the steps, a bright light out of the corner of his vision caught his attention. He peered around the side of the house. ARI had highlighted something in the tall, overrun grass in the yard. He stepped closer to peer over the fence. Barrels… They looked rusted and used, but with ARI's help, he could easily read the labels from here.

Industrial chemicals… What would a former doctor and prison inmate be doing with industrial chemicals? Making drugs?

Jayden walked up the steps and noted the fingerprint on the doorbell.

_What are you doing here, Miss Paige? And where did you take Ethan Mars? You didn't bring him here, did you?_

He didn't see any other footprints, but they could easily have been washed away by the rain. The fact that he could still see traces of hers meant she must have arrived very recently. _  
_

Jayden rang the doorbell and waited. He tapped his foot on the ground and shifted his focus, using ARI to read more of Adrian Baker's file while he waited. The man was taking forever. Jayden rang the doorbell again.

_Maybe he isn't home? But then why is Madison Paige's bike still here? Why haven't her footprints left? No. He's here. He's just taking a long-ass time to answer the door…_

Jayden could hear footsteps inside. Finally! He shifted his weight and pulled off his glasses as the door opened, tucking them inside his jacket. Jayden leaned to get a better look through the tiny opening. "Mr. Baker? Adrian Baker?"

An old man with squinting eyes peeked out from behind the door.

"Can I help you?"

Jayden pulled out his ID badge and held it up to the crack in the door. "My name is Norman Jayden, I'm with the FBI. I'd like to ask you a few questions, please."

"Concerning?"

"I'm investigating the murders of the Origami Killer."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Your name came up during the course of that investigation. If you could, sir, I would like just five minutes of your time to go over some details. Clear your name off my book, so to speak."

"I'm sorry, Agent…?"

"Jayden."

"Agent Jayden, yes… But, you see, I'm a very busy man and I don't-"

"Five minutes, sir." Jayden wasn't budging.

The old man must have seen it. His shoulders slumped and anger crossed his face briefly. "Very well. You'd better step inside."

"Thanks." Jayden's pale eyes never left Baker's face as he passed him to get to the living room. "Nice place you got here." Jayden eyed his surroundings.

_Is this a hallucination…? Or are those walls… and the carpet… Nope. No hallucinations here. This place looks like it came out of a seventies free love and opium den. I don't know how anybody can look at that wallpaper without going nuts!_

"Yes, I do get by. May I offer you a drink, Agent Jayden?"

"No, thanks. I don't drink."

Adrian Baker smiled. His smile made Jayden's skin crawl. "Forgive an old parlor trick, but you strike me as the vodka martini type."

Jayden's eyebrows raised. "I am. I was. I'm not anymore. I don't drink."

_And by that, what I really mean is that I'm trying to quit. Casually. The giant bottle of Smirnoff in my hotel room may or may not be helping… It's the 'trying' part that counts, though, right?  
_

"Hmm. A pity."

Jayden's head turned. He looked down the hallway, certain he'd heard something.

Baker stepped forward, drawing his attention back. "You said you had some questions for me?"

"Yes. We've been able to track the Origami Killer to an apartment on Marble Street. The building number is 9711. Do you know anything about this place?"

"No." He shook his head. "No, I can't say that I do."

"City records indicate that you own the property. Are you trying to tell me you don't know anything at all about a property that you own?"

"Agent Jayden, I own many properties. You can't expect an old man to keep track of them all, can you?"

Jayden folded his fingers together in front of his face, thinking. "Surely, you must keep records… For tax purposes, right? Even Al Capone had to worry about taxes, Mr. Baker. I need to know who you rented that apartment to."

"I would have to look into it."

"Well… why don't you start looking?" Jayden smiled politely, not intimidated at all by the angry glare that Baker was pointing his way.

"Those records are kept in my solicitor's office in town. Like most normal people, he keeps scheduled office hours and I won't be able to contact him until tomorrow morning. But if you come back tomorrow, Agent Jayden, I'll be able to give you all the attention you deserve. Now, if there was nothing else?"

"Yeah, actually, there was. What can you tell me about Madison Paige?"

"Who?"

"Madison Paige."

"I, er… I'm sorry, I don't know anybody by that name…"

"She's a young woman, mid twenties. Bout this tall. Short brunette hair. No? Doesn't ring a bell? That's funny, because that's her bike parked outside. You sure you haven't heard of her?"

Baker seemed angry and frustrated. Jayden was used to frustrating people. He was very familiar with that look. Then Baker smiled…

_Yeah, THAT gives me the creeps. I will be very happy if I don't have to see this man smile at me ever again._

"Oh! THAT woman! Yes, she, er… she overturned her bike in the rain and sprained her ankle. She came to my doorstep looking for help. Naturally, I couldn't turn her away. She's in the back, if you would like to speak with her…?"

Jayden frowned. Something unusual was going on, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. "I would, actually, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Baker gestured down the hallway. "After you. It's the last door."

_His eyes. Something is not right about his eyes…_

Jayden tapped his pockets again to double check. One gun, one vial of triptocaine. All he needed.

_Triptocaine... The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get back to my hotel room and have some... No! No, we don't need it! We can control this... well, maybe just a little bit? A little bit won't hurt... A little bit will just take the edge off, it won't be like taking a full dose. Agh. No. No triptocaine unless we really need it. Still, the sooner we get out of here, the better.  
_

Baker was waiting for him and he wasn't going to get out of here any quicker unless he started moving, so he turned and started down the hallway. Last door… Jayden opened the door, expecting a bedroom. He was startled to find stairs leading to a basement.

_Stairs? You don't take a woman with a sprained ankle down stairs… Oh. Oh, this is the part where I call myself ten kinds of stupid for taking my eyes off that slimy little snake. Dammit._

Jayden had only time for the one thought before pain exploded in his skull and the force of whatever had hit him sent him careening down into the darkness, tumbling and bouncing down the hard wooden stairs. Instinctively, he tucked himself into a ball to protect his head, but that didn't stop him from crashing to a painful and sudden stop when he hit the floor.

His head throbbed, his body ached, the world was swimming, and not from the drug withdrawal. He groaned and tried to force himself to his feet. The pain in his head made moving very difficult. Too late… the doctor was already down the stairs and kicked him hard in the stomach for his trouble. He groaned and coughed, curling into a ball.

Baker's voice was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. At least he wasn't talking to him. "You have a visitor, my dear! All the way from Washington, too. Mr. Norman Jayden, of the FBI. Where are you hiding, darling? I'm very impressed that you managed to escape your ropes, but I know you're still down here somewhere. Come out and meet our guest! It's very rude to keep him waiting."

Jayden's eyes traveled around the room. Metal table covered in blood, cut ropes. Dead body in corner. Not many places to hide that he could see. Lots of power tools. Jayden swallowed against the sudden dryness in his mouth. Lots and lots of power tools.

The aching at the back of his skull was intense, almost unbearable, but he tried to stand again. A hand fisted in his hair and yanked his head back, the pain and the sudden motion almost causing him to black out completely. His vision blurred. This was just as bad as his triptocaine cravings. Almost worse.

Jayden instantly regretted the thought. He really wanted his triptocaine.

_STOP! You don't need it, this isn't ARI withdrawal, this is a concussion. Nothing more than a concussion and a couple of bruises and you don't need drugs to deal with a few little ouches like this, Jay. So just stop it!_

Triptocaine…the triptocaine was in his pocket. It would make the pain go away…

_Stop it._

"If you don't come out, my dear, you'll leave me no choice but to play with our darling federal agent while I wait."

Just a little bit… just a little bit would be nice. Just a little bit to make the pain in his head go away. His fingers moved towards his pocket of their own accord. He certainly hadn't told them to.

"Now, what's this?"

Hands grabbed him and hauled him around. A gasp of agony escaped him as his head was jarred.

"Triptocaine?" Cruel laughter. "Norman, Norman, Norman… don't you know this stuff will kill you? It's very bad for you. I'll just do you a favor and get rid of it. But first… what do we have here? A gun? Now, you weren't planning on using this here, were you? No? Good."

Jayden wanted to move. He couldn't. He wanted to die. Couldn't seem to do that either.

"Come on out, Miss Paige. You don't want Agent Jayden's death on your conscience, do you my dear?"

Jayden swallowed. "Don't do it, Madison."

"Be quiet!"

A sharp blow to his jaw made him gasp. His eyes squeezed shut and he swallowed hard. Now would probably be a good time to be quiet. Unfortunately, being contrary was quickly becoming a bad habit of his. "Don't you listen to him, Madison. If you see a chance, you break for it, you hear? Don't worry about me."

"You must have a pretty strong death wish, boy. Fine. You want to play games, I'm happy to oblige."

Jayden finally managed to lift his head up enough to see what was going on, just as the old man hauled him up and flipped him onto the table.

_Oww, that hurts… Either he's a strong little bastard or I need to eat more.  
_

The jostling was starting to wake him up though. The blow to the back of the head should have knocked him out cold, but he was weathering it alright. He could maybe gather enough strength for one good lashing out… It wouldn't do much to save him, but maybe it would give the girl the chance she needed to sprint for the door.

_One good kick… just one good kick._

Jayden let his body go completely limp, his head rolling listlessly to the side, trying desperately to pretend he was dead to the world. If Baker thought he'd fainted, it might give him just enough of an advantage.

"It's a shame you cut through those ropes, darling. I usually like my patients awake when I'm operating on them. It… enhances the pleasure."

Jayden watched through squinted eyes. Luckily, his head had rolled in the perfect direction to see what Baker was up to. And it looked like he was filling a syringe…

_Not good._

"Fortunately, I have other methods of ensuring they don't… thrash around too much. Are you sure you don't want to come out? I'll find you anyway, so it really doesn't matter. But if you come out now, I promise that I'll take care of you first and you won't have to watch what I do to our federal agent. You won't have to see what's coming…"

The doctor was starting to walk back this way.

"Eh. Suit yourself."

He grabbed Jayden's arm and lifted the syringe. Jayden grabbed Baker's shirt and yanked him forward, using his other fist to left cross him across the jaw as hard as he could. The doctor wasn't expecting it and dropped out of sight. Jayden swung his legs to the ground and stood, unsteady and leaning heavily against the table for support. Baker grabbed his leg and pulled him off balance and Jayden fell to the floor.

The doc was quicker to his feet than Jayden was. He was still struggling to stand when he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of a spinning hand saw coming straight for him. He stumbled back, slapping the thing out of the way. It missed him. Barely.

Baker's face was a cloud of fury and rage and he swung again. Jayden dodged to the side, falling again to the floor. This was it. He couldn't get up again, even if he tried. Not in time to avoid that next blow. The hand saw was coming down. He raised his arm to deflect it and screamed in pain as the blade bit into his flesh, the motor singing an ugly high pitched song as it ripped through cloth and skin and muscle like butter. Jayden closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch… Dying wouldn't be so bad if he didn't have to watch.

All in all, it was a very temporary sort of pain. It had hurt like hell the first second or two and then, quite simply, it didn't anymore. Of course, he also couldn't hear the motor anymore. Curious. Jayden cautiously opened one eye, then blinked in surprise. He shook his head and blinked again.

Sure enough, Baker had dropped the saw, and for good reason, too. A woman was beating the shit out of him with a baseball bat.

_That's… interesting and unexpected…_

She seemed to be doing a perfectly marvelous job, so Jayden lay back and took a deep breath and tried to force the world to spin straight again. When he opened his eyes, the woman was staring down at him. He couldn't tell what sort of emotion that was, the one playing across her face like that. Shock? Concern? Terror? Indecision? She wanted to leave, but something was drawing her to stay. That much he could tell.

His voice sounded funny in his own ears, as if he spoke down a long tunnel, "Madison Paige, I presume?"

The world was rapidly falling away from him. If she answered at all, Jayden didn't hear it. He'd already passed out.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Madison Paige was shaking when she finally set down the blood spattered bat. Adrian Baker was an unrecognizable mass of lumpy red tissue. He wouldn't be hurting any more people, that was for sure.

A soft groan caught her attention. She dropped the bat and knelt beside the stranger who had probably saved her life. What was his name… Nathan? Norman? Norman sounded right.

His face was ghostly white and his pale blue eyes were tracking abnormally as if he couldn't quite focus on anything. "Hey, you okay?"

He didn't respond at first, his eyes listlessly following the ceiling before he dragged his gaze down to her face. His voice was weak and strained, "Madison Paige, I presume?" She didn't have time to answer. His eyes had rolled up into the back of his head. Quickly she felt at his neck for a pulse. There. It was beating and it seemed pretty steady, not that she would be able to tell the difference between a steady pulse and an unsteady one. But he had a pulse, that was good, right?

"Well…" She ran a hand through her hair. "Shit. I can't just leave you down here, can I? Hold on a second."

She went to the sink in the corner where she had seen Doctor Baker take the agent's gun and the vial of blue stuff. She put the vial in her jean pocket and picked up the gun. She checked to make sure the safety was on, then put it in her coat pocket.

As she returned, she couldn't help but to eye the doctor's body, making sure it hadn't moved.

"I don't know about you, Norman, but I don't want to stay down here a minute more than I have to, so let's get you out of here, alright?"

It wasn't the first time Madison had thanked her lucky stars that she'd had older brothers to teach her all manner of useful things. A fireman's carry was definitely among them. She grasped Norman's wrists and walked backwards, pulling him up to a standing position, then crouched and settled his weight across her shoulders before straightening again. She'd carried people like this across parking lots and down streets, but this was the first time she'd tried going up a flight of stairs. She took her time, went slowly and carefully up each step. After what seemed like forever, she made it to the top, grinning triumphantly to herself.

Madison carried Jayden over to the ugly yellow couch and carefully maneuvered to set him down without smashing his skull again. When he was settled, she stepped back and rested for a moment with her arms behind her, stretching her shoulder blades. "Not to sound like a mother hen or anything, but you…" She pointed at the unconscious man. "You need to eat more."

Madison checked his pulse again. Still going. She pulled out her phone and began dialing 911.

Icy cold fingers wrapped around her wrist, startling her and making her drop the phone. "Christ! You scared me!"

Jayden looked up at her with his pale blue eyes that were framed by the dark circles underneath them. It looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He gave her a weak smile. "Sorry. Wasn't trying to."

Madison picked up the phone, cursing herself for being jittery. It was this place that was doing it… that and the lumpy pile of bloody tissue still laying on the basement floor. She wanted to go look again to make sure he hadn't moved. She shook her head. That was just plain silly. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Who are you calling?"

"An ambulance. I need to get you to the emergency room…"

His bloodshot eyes widened in alarm. "No! No hospitals, no doctors!"

Madison looked at him incredulously. "Are you nuts? You have a concussion!"

"Do not."

"You were bashed on the skull with a baseball bat, took a nose dive down a flight of stairs, AND lost consciousness. Believe me, you have a concussion."

Jayden pressed a palm to his forehead, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly. "It's not serious."

"Not serious? People die from those, you know that, right?"

"No doctors." He started to sit up but Madison put a hand on his chest and held him down.

"What is with you people and refusing medical attention?"

"I've got my reasons. Listen, Madison… Is it okay if I call you Madison?"

She nodded. "If I get to call you Norman."

Jayden grimaced and continued. "I have a day, maybe two, to find Shaun Mars alive. If I go to the hospital for a head injury, they'll keep me there under observation. Twenty four hours minimum. I can't do my job if I'm locked up in a hospital ward and I'm the only chance this kid has got."

"You're not the only one trying to find him. There are other people trying to solve this."

"Who? The police? Yeah, they're doing a real fan-fucking-tastic job of it." His eyes narrowed as he watched her face. "But you weren't talking about them, were you? You were talking about Ethan Mars."

Madison looked away. That was a statement, not a question. "How'd you guess?"

Jayden laughed softly. "How'd I guess? You want the detailed version? Well, let's see. I'll start at the beginning, shall I? The killer has nothing against the kids that he kills, no personal vendetta against them. He feels remorse for their deaths and gives them an origami figure as a present or an apology, probably both. It follows then that he kills them to punish someone close to them, someone like a family member. He doesn't kill them right away. He keeps them alive for three to five days, depending on the amount of rainfall during that time. This suggests that not only is he NOT killing these kids himself, that he's disassociating himself entirely from the actual murder, but it might also suggest that maybe he's also giving somebody an opportunity to save them. It isn't the police that he's interested in or he would have sent us clues or some sort of message, perhaps via the media as the Zodiac Killer did. Since this is not the case, we have to infer that he wants somebody not involved with the police to find these boys, somebody much closer to them. It's some sort of a game, or a test."

Jayden paused for a breath, grimacing in irritation.

"But, since nobody ever bothers to bring forth any sort of helpful information, this is only a guess. I am GUESSING that Ethan Mars is being given an opportunity to find his son and I am GUESSING that cutting off his finger in that apartment was part of it, because, frankly, I can't think of a single other reason why anybody would willingly chop off their finger in front of a fucking camera. I'm pretty smart, but that shit is beyond me. An ultimatum in this case just makes sense. As to your involvement, I would GUESS that you had a pretty compelling reason for aiding and abetting a suspected serial killer. Now, it could just be that you're trying to get good copy for a story, but your file suggests that, for the most part, you are to all accounts very professional in your pursuit of the journalistic arts. And a smart journalist like you would know that it is very hard to research good stories from prison. Ergo, you must either be working on some seriously epic Nobel prize winning material, or you believe very strongly that Ethan Mars is innocent. But like I said, all of that is just a bit of educated conjecture. And a rose by any other name is still just me guessing in the dark."

Madison ground her teeth. There was something unsettling about knowing that somebody had taken the time to look up her information and vexing that he had used that information to try and justify her actions. And it just plain pissed her off that he was close to being right. "You're pretty observant."

"I'm a criminal profiler. Observing people is what pays my rent."

"Tell me, does the insufferable smart ass act work on many girls where you come from?"

"Nah. Most of the girls back home aren't impressed with us FBI guys. They know most of us are just glorified desk jockeys."

"Is that what you are? A desk jockey?"

"Something like that. More like a failed science experiment."

"I guess that explains why you suck at field work. Hey, come on! Letting somebody sneak up and cold-cock you was a little… what's the word I'm looking for? Inept?"

Jayden winced, but his lips still curved up in a bare semblance of a smile. "Ouch. That hurts my feelings. Did Carter Blake tell you to say that?"

"Nope, I came up with that one all on my own. Besides, I try to avoid Lieutenant Blake as often as I can."

"Very wise. Inept… yeesh. May as well quit my day job, right?" Jayden shifted uncomfortably, his eyes narrowing. "You, er…You never said if you were going to turn me in or not."

"Turn you in for what? Being inept?"

"No. For the brain injury."

Madison watched him, contemplating. He seemed to be alright. Anyone who could give a miniature briefing on the habits of a serial killer on the fly not even ten minutes after waking up from being knocked unconscious had to have a few gears still turning. Or a few gears loose, but he seemed alright. He also seemed very on edge over the thought of going to a hospital. "I don't know yet."

"Would it help if I promised to go get checked out the moment this case is over? A full work up. MRI's, CT scans, the whole nine yards. I could pinky swear if you'd like…"

She sighed, relenting. "Fine. I won't turn you in. But you're stuck with me for the next couple of hours. Don't give me that look! If I let you walk out of here alone and I find out two days from now that you keeled over and died from some sort of brain aneurysm…" Madison was interested to see him flinch at the word aneurysm. "Well, let's just say you aren't worth the guilty conscience so suck it up and deal with it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I'm going to go get an ice pack for your head. Don't move."

"Wasn't planning on it." He closed his eyes tightly, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead. "Speaking of inept… would you mind terribly giving my gun back?"

"What makes you think I have your gun?"

He blinked owlishly at her, then said with a completely straight face, "Because I can't think of a single horror movie where the bad guy doesn't come back to life at the end and squeeze one more terrified scream out of the heroine. A smart, capable girl like you would know better than to leave a loaded weapon anywhere near that crazed, psychopathic son of a bitch, rigor mortis or not."

Madison smiled as she pulled the gun out of her pocket and handed it over. "You know, it's funny… I never pictured you with a sense of humor." At his puzzled expression, she continued, "I saw you at the press conference a few days ago. I'd heard they were sending in an FBI agent and I was looking for him, trying to pick him out of the crowd. I saw you and thought you looked so dour and serious that you had to be him. I was right, wasn't I? But, I guess I just never thought you would have a sense of humor."

Jayden quickly checked to make sure the safety was on, then slid the clip out and checked the bullets before sliding it back in and putting it away. "It's interesting that you think I'm joking. We actually have a motto at the FBI concerning the relative mortality of bad guys; 'Two in the head or they're probably not dead.'"

"You made that up."

"In fact, Die Hard and the X-Files are both required watching at the academy. The part at the end? Where the crazy Swedish guy jumps up after hanging by the neck for thirty or forty minutes and tries to shoot Bruce Willis? Happens in real life all the time. More often than you'd think."

"Really?"

"No, not really." He smiled and Madison rolled her eyes in disgust, quickly moving to the kitchen. She wasn't sure what was irritating her more; the fact that he was teasing her or the part where she was letting him. He was an FBI agent. He was trying to arrest Ethan. She wasn't supposed to like him. THAT was frustrating for certain.

She pulled a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer and wrapped them in a paper towel. When she returned to the living room, Jayden was sitting up, his hands folded carefully together in front of his face, forehead barely touching the tips of his first two fingers. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating.

"Here. Hold this to your head, I'm going to get some things to fix your arm."

His eyes were slow to open and he looked at her with a somewhat puzzled expression. He looked down at his arm and frowned in confusion as if just now seeing the blood and the ragged tear in his jacket for the first time. "Huh. That's funny."

"What? You didn't notice that your arm was cut?"

He looked up at her and the look in his eyes made Madison's neck hairs stand up straight. It was a sad look... sad and resigned. She'd seen it before. In the early days of her career, she had been reporting 'in the trenches' as they said. She'd been in the café at her hotel going over her notes for her first submission when a man had walked into the center of the plaza. She hadn't known what had made her look up at just that moment or what had caught her attention, but her eyes had locked onto his. Seconds later he had pressed a button on a detonator and blown himself to pieces. Those eyes had the same look that Jayden's did now.

Then he smiled, a faint but easy smile, and the moment was gone. "I guess when your head feels like the New York Knicks have been practicing free throws with your brain, little things like scratches take a backseat. I'm kind of sad about the coat though. I really like this coat."

"Yeah..." Madison shook her head, trying to rid herself of the gooseflesh that had crawled up her arms at the unexpected memory. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He gently took the frozen peas from her hand. His voice was soft, "I'm fine. No worries."

"Alright." Madison took a breath and let it out. "Alright, I'll be right back." She crossed the room to the bathroom door, her reporter's instincts nagging at her like the buzzer on an egg timer. He was hiding something, that she was sure of. What could it be? He didn't act like a crooked cop. Madison had met a few of those in her time. But what would a crooked FBI agent act like? Would she even be able to tell? He seemed to genuinely want to solve this case. And maybe he did. But he was definitely hiding something.

She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out some supplies. At least the doctor had kept a good selection on hand. She turned around to see that Jayden had followed her into the bathroom.

He already had his coat off and his sleeve rolled up. "I can do this myself if you would prefer."

Madison set everything on the counter. "I don't mind. Besides, you're supposed to be keeping those peas on your head."

"Yes, ma'am." Jayden smiled that tiny smile of his and took a seat on the toilet seat lid, obediently pressing the frozen peas to the back of his head. His face almost didn't move at all but Madison could tell he was amused. It was his eyes that smiled...

Madison shook her head. "Alright, let's have a look." She took his hand and looked at the cut in his arm. "Are you sure you won't go to the hospital? It's pretty ugly."

"Don't have time. I'd rather take my chances with you." Madison's eyes flashed angrily and Jayden winced, realizing what he'd just said. "I didn't mean for that to sound the way it came out. What I meant is that – Agh!"

Madison had started to clean the cut and wasn't taking any particular cares to be gentle. "You were saying?"

"What I meant is that – AGH! Shit! Ow, ow, ow, stop it! Stop!" Jayden pulled his arm away from her and held it protectively to his chest. "For fuck's sake!"

Madison batted her eyes innocently. "Something wrong?"

Jayden glared at her for a moment, icy eyes staring straight into her like daggers. "No. Nothing. I'm sorry, that was a very lousy word choice on my part. What I meant to say is that I think you can do just as excellent a job with the added benefit of being a thousand times more quicker and not requiring paper work."

Madison nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. She held out her hand.

Jayden looked at her with leeriness in his pale eyes. "You aren't going to be mean again, are you?"

Madison shook her head. Jayden very gingerly allowed her to take his arm again. Sure enough, she was much gentler this time. "Tell me something, Norman… you don't mind if I ask a personal question, do you?"

"Not if the answer doesn't end up in a magazine somewhere."

"Why Shaun Mars?" He looked confused. "Why do you want to save him so badly? Why this kid?"

"Do I have to have a reason to want to save a kid's life?"

"No, but it seems like you have one anyway."

Jayden frowned, watching her carefully while she used butterfly bandages to close his wound. "That… isn't. It's just something that I have to do, I guess…"

Madison was quiet. He was obviously struggling with his explanation.

"There was… well, something happened. I, uh… I made a mistake and some people died… I made a mistake. Now… now, I just… I have to fix it. I have to try. I don't… I'm not saying that Shaun Mars isn't special and that I don't… Hell. What I'm saying is that I could save thirty kids like Shaun Mars, maybe a hundred… and it wouldn't even begin to make up for what happened."

"What happened?"

"Not anything that I'm comfortable seeing on front page news."

"You don't trust me?"

"I don't know you."

"I saved your life."

"I'm grateful."

"But you don't trust me."

"Trust is like a good bottle of scotch. The longer you let it age, the smoother it goes down."

"Aren't you a little too young for age metaphors?"

"Aren't you a little too nosy for your own good?"

"I'm a journalist. I'm supposed to be nosy."

"I'm an FBI agent. I'm supposed to have an old soul."

"We aren't exactly getting anywhere, are we?"

Jayden nodded in agreement, face somber. "Unstoppable force meets immovable jackass. Classic case of diametric opposition."

Madison finished taping the bandage into place. "There. Good as new. I get to be the force if you don't mind. A gallant, charming defender of justice like you wouldn't hesitate to be the jackass to save a woman her dignity, would you?"

"Not at all. I'll take it as payback for my 'inept' rescue. Not bad… Not bad at all." Jayden examined his bandaged arm, flexing his fingers. He frowned when he saw his hand was trembling.

Madison noticed too. "Do you need some pain killer? I think I saw some vicodin in the cabinet."

"No. It's just my head that hurts, really, and I've got something for that pain…" Jayden's eyes widened. His skin seemed to drain of what little color it had. He set the bag of peas on the counter and quickly tapped at the pockets in his pants. He stood and shoved past Madison, practically sprinting into the living room.

Madison followed, somewhat dazed at the man's sudden change in behavior. He was frantically digging through the pockets of his black coat, sweat shining on his forehead and an expression of sheer panic on his face. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Looking for something?"

"It's gotta be here! I had it… Shit!" He dropped the coat and sprinted for the door, ripping it open and leaving it swinging slowly shut behind him.

Madison ran after him. She stood on the porch while he dug through his car in a berserk sort of frenzy. With a snarl of rage, Jayden gave up his search, slamming his fist down on the hood of the car and kicking the door shut. "DAMMIT!" He turned and paced a few steps down the street and back, running a shaking hand through his hair as the rain continued to fall.

"Norman!"

He continued to pace as he looked up at her. She held up the vial of blue powder and shook it slightly. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Jayden's pale eyes narrowed. She couldn't read what he was thinking, but his face seemed to filter through several emotions at once; rage and desperation were there, and so was fear. There was a lot of fear to be seen there.

"How did you get that?"

"What did the doc call it? Triptocaine?"

"It's mine. Give it back."

"Is this some kind of drug?"

"Give it back!"

Madison rolled her eyes in disgust. She tossed it to him and he snatched it out of thin air. He held it in his hand and pressed his fist against his forehead, eyes closed and breathing deeply. He didn't unstopper the vial or make any effort to take the drug, but having it close seemed to have a tranquilizing affect on the young man and he slowly relaxed. He slipped the vial into his pocket and sighed again, relief evident on his face, once again the calm and sensible seeming person that Madison had first met, the one who wasn't shaken by lunatic doctors or trauma classed injuries. The one who could sit in a killer's house and make deadpan jokes, projecting such an unwavering sense of untroubled confidence that Madison hadn't even thought of being frightened or scared. An event that should have left her shaking and crying and screaming at the world had passed and because of Jayden she hadn't even given it a second thought until now.

Jayden walked slowly up the steps, eyes down, not meeting her accusing glare. "Thanks."

"I think you owe me an explanation."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me."

"I can't."

"Can't what? Explain why the FBI sent a drug junkie to help find a kidnapped child?"

"It's not like that."

"So, tell me."

"I will. Mind if we get out of here first?"

Madison nodded. "I'll get your coat. We can take your car." She didn't wait for him to respond, just went back inside and grabbed his jacket. She certainly wasn't letting him out of her sight until she got to the bottom of this.


	4. Chapter 4

Jayden was sweating in spite of the cold, beads of it were trailing down between his shoulder blades making him uncomfortably aware of how sick he was. His hands wouldn't stop shaking and he was so, so cold and being completely soaked to the bone wasn't helping.

_God damned rain… When this is all over, I'm taking a vacation some place where there's sunshine._

He looked down at his hands.

_Stop trembling. Just stop trembling. Easy. You can do it, just stop trembling._

Jayden hid them under the table. If at first you don't succeed, remove all evidence that suggests you tried. If he couldn't make them stop, he just needed to make sure nobody saw. It wouldn't be too hard here. The café at Madison's motel was open twenty four hours, but at this time, there weren't a whole lot of people interested in eating. Or maybe they just knew better than to eat at this place. At least he could blame the trembling on the cold.

_Triptocaine would make it stop, triptocaine will make the pain go away and everything… It'll help you focus, help you… help you… No! No, I don't need it. I don't need it right now. I can hold off a little while longer. Just keep steady._

Madison was returning to the table he sat at, two white paper latte cups in her hands. She sat down opposite him and set one cup in front of him. Jayden reached out, holding it with both hands, letting the heat sink into his palms. There was nothing like a hot cup of coffee.

_A_ good _hot cup of coffee that is. That toxic sludge they serve at the precinct does not count. Jury's still out on this place, but it's gotta be better than whatever the hell it is they serve the police force._

Madison was watching him. "So." She gingerly sipped her coffee, careful not to scald herself with the hot liquid.

Jayden dropped his eyes to his own coffee cup. "So."

"Why don't you start by telling me what triptocaine is."

"Triptocaine is a highly addictive stimulant as well as an anesthetic. It's very similar to cocaine except that it's manufactured in a laboratory, not derived from a coca plant and smuggled across the border. It's also not widely available to the public nor is it formally recognized by the United States government as a real drug and is therefore not yet illegal." This last was said with as icy a stare as he could muster.

Madison wasn't the slightest put off. "How does it affect you?"

"It lets me function."

"You're sure about that?"

"Sure, I'm sure. You've heard of a 'functioning alcoholic,' yes? It happens to be that I am a functioning substance abuser and, as it happens, I function very well under the circumstances. I'm not willing to trade in the 'functioning' part just yet."

"Functioning? Right. You function all the way up until you realize that you need a hit and then you panic. I saw it happen."

"I didn't… Alright, maybe I panicked a little bit, but I blame it on the head injury."

"What happens if you panic while someone has a gun on you?"

Jayden dropped his gaze and took a sip of his coffee. "I can control it."

"What happens, Norman?"

"My vision goes out of focus… My motor control takes a nose dive and I lose my equilibrium to the point where it's difficult to stand up straight. If it's a really bad episode, I start hallucinating. Beyond that, it's just nausea, cold sweats, jitteriness and a really bad migraine, but I can deal with all the little stuff. No problem." Jayden smiled briefly, then seeing Madison's disapproving look, sighed and played with his coffee cup, spinning the beverage insulator around the cup. "Guess that's not a very funny joke… Alright. Brass tacks. Simply put, if I have tripto attack and I'm in a situation like that, I'll probably be going home in a body bag."

"And get everyone who's relying on you killed."

There wasn't really anything Jayden could say to that, so he focused on peeling the corner of the beverage insulator back, just something to keep his hands busy.

"Why did you start? If triptocaine affects you as bad as that, why did you start?"

Jayden rubbed his forehead, wincing as his headache seemed to spike.

_Fucking journalists and their un-fucking-comfortable questions. Answer one and they never stop coming. But if I give her a little bit, maybe she'll be satisfied enough to let me get back to looking for the killer._

He sighed and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling as if he might find some sort of clarification, some sort of way to make talking about this easier.

"It was an accident. That's all it was. Bad situation, bad timing. My first year as a field agent. Chased a suspect on foot across the waterfront and into a warehouse. Turns out they were manufacturing drugs there, I stumbled onto their operation completely by accident. Couldn't tell who was more surprised, them or me. I saw guns coming out and I dived for the nearest cover I could find. Before I know it, bullets start flying, ricocheting everywhere. More than a couple of them tore through the pile of packages I was hiding behind. Clouds of blue dust went everywhere. It was… everywhere, in my eyes, my hair, my clothes… my mouth… I was breathing it in… I just… Well, like I said, it was a bad situation. I ended up overdosing on drugs just by… by being in the wrong place. Talk about depressing, right? Never did drugs as a kid, never even touched a cigarette before. Used to be very proud of that… Used to be, but that bit of pride is all gone now. One little accident. All gone. How's that for irony?"

"Okay. But why do you still take it? Why didn't you get help?"

"Oh, I did get help. I didn't have a choice, really. I passed out at some point during the shootout. Overdosing on stimulants apparently causes heart attacks and blackouts. Who'd have figured, right? Woke up from a coma two weeks later in the hospital. They already had me enrolled in every drug counseling and support program in the whole city of Boston. So, I was in therapy for the drugs, therapy for the shooting. I was in physical therapy for my arm, one of the bullets had hit me, fractured my shoulder blade. It was the most miserable six months of my life. But I got through it and went back to work. Stayed clean for a very long time."

"What made you slip?"

"What makes you think I slipped?"

"You're using now, aren't you?"

"Moderately. As little as I can manage and still perform my job."

"See?" Madison slammed her cup angrily on the table, coffee splashing out of the small hole in the top of the lid. "Noble story aside, you're still nothing more than a goddamned addict!"

"Yes! Yes, I am an addict! But, I'm also an addict who is damned good at his job and I will continue to do it until the day my brain explodes and leaks out of my eye sockets. You got a problem with that?"

"I have a big fucking problem with it! You're supposed to be one of the good guys and you're spending your free time snorting fucking coke!"

"Tripto. Not coke. There's a difference."

"Big fucking difference! It's all drugs to me!"

"Who hurt you Madison?"

"I… wh-what?"

"Who hurt you and why are you taking it out on me?"

"I… Nobody… I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's a load of horse shit! You don't know me! You have no vested interest in me or my problems. Drugs are a trigger for you. They remind you of something or someone from your past. You don't see me with my drug problem, you see the person who hurt you."

"That's ridiculous."

Jayden laughed. "Ridiculous is it? Your lips say no, Sweetheart, but your body is screaming a big fat yes. You've adopted a defensive posture. A minute ago, you were leaning forward, engaged in conversation, but the moment I asked that question, you sat up straight back in your chair, as far away from me as you could get without leaving your seat. Your pupils have dilated, a sure sign of sudden stress. You aren't sure what to do with your hands and you're afraid that if you meet my eyes, you'll give away something that you don't want me to know. Here's a question for you, Madison. If I'm wrong, why didn't you shrug it off, laugh at me, smile in confusion or do any of the other things humans do when they don't understand a word I'm saying. Don't know why? I'll tell you why. I said something that shook your foundation and knocked you off balance and now you're trying to stall with denials while you recover enough to think of a way to defend against me."

Madison leaned forward, eyes sparking with anger as she looked him straight in the eye. "Fuck you, Norman. You know nothing about me!"

"Funny, I feel the same way."

"I have enough evidence to take this to the press and destroy your career."

"I've got enough to throw you in prison for murder and destroy your life."

"You wouldn't."

"The only thing I have left to lose is my job. You want to play hard ball? That's fine. I'll step up to the plate. But what I want you to think about is how long it's going to take for the smoke to clear once the bullets start flying and according to the weather forecast, we have about thirty six hours left to save a kid's life. I have no doubt that you can destroy me, but you'll be taking yourself down, too, AND Ethan Mars. And Shaun Mars… well, he'll just be dead, the killer will be free and there will be another name in the news next week. Five lives destroyed for the price of one. Hope you've been making payments on your karma credit plan, cause that's a hell of a big purchase."

It was Madison's turn to look away. They were silent for some time and Jayden sipped his coffee waiting for her to speak. When she finally did, her voice was quiet. "How could you throw me in prison for murder?"

"You just killed a man. It would be easy."

"That was self defense."

"Twenty minutes and I could have that whole place scrubbed, polished, and wrapped in a bow tie, looking exactly like a breaking and entering with an intent to steal narcotics."

"You wouldn't do that. You aren't the type."

"How do you know?"

"You saved me down there. If you were ruthless enough to do that to save yourself, you wouldn't have been thinking about me when your life was at stake. You're just not the type."

"We both know I'm a drug addict, either way, but I am either a good person who you can trust or I'm a bad person who you can't. But if you could do me a favor and decide quick so I can get back to catching a serial killer, I'd appreciate it."

Jayden's sincere, soul searching stare into Madison's eyes was interrupted by the ringing and buzzing noise that came from his pocket. He sighed and pulled out his cell phone and frowned at the caller ID.

_Blake? Why the hell is_ Blake _calling me? Maybe it's to apologize for abandoning me out at a crime scene. Dream on, Norman. He'd have to think that he did something wrong before he'd consider apologizing for it. If it's to give me more crap about Ethan Mars getting away, I'm punching him in the face when I get back to the precinct._

"This is Jayden."

//Jayden, it's Blake.//

"Yeah, kind of figured. What's up?"

//Sarah Bowles just killed herself. We're leaving the scene right now. Thought I'd fill you in, since you, er… hehe, couldn't be here.//

"And it didn't occur to you to call me and ask me to meet you there?"

//It's an open and shut suicide. I didn't think you'd be interested,  _Norman_.//

"I wouldn't be if I didn't know for a fact that you and your buddies constantly overlook things, Carter."

//Oh, yeah? Fuck you, too, kid. I guess you'd be interested to know that she left a suicide note, she cut her wrists up in the bath tub with a razor blade, there are no signs of trauma or bruising anywhere on her body, and the only prints in the house other than her and her husband's belong to a private eye named Scott Shelby and since I can personally vouch for the guy, you've got nothing. Open and shut. Like I said.//

" Yeah. Sounds like it. What did the coroner say?"

//Coroner says the same thing that I just did. She slit her fucking wrists. Wait a second… Alright, he says that she tried once before about a day or two ago, some of the cuts had started to heal. I guess practice makes perfect, right?//

"Right."

//Anyway, the baby's being taken into custody until we can find the husband. Hasn't shown up to work since the kid disappeared. Probably offed himself too.//

"You sure you didn't accidentally interrogate him to death?"

//Oh, ha, ha, ha. That's so fucking funny, I'm laughing my ass off. Can you tell?//

Jayden smiled.

//Hey, when are you coming back to the station?//

"Not for a while. Why? You got something?"

//No, but Captain Perry wanted to see you.//

"Really? What about?"

//Probably about why you let our suspect get away in that subway station.//

_Fucking dickhead._

"Hmm. Well, I'll be sure to drop in and speak with him. Anything else?"

//What am I? Your fucking secretary?//

"No, but if you put on one of those cute little French maid outfits, I'll let you dust underneath my desk for me."

//You FUCKING piece of--//

The line went dead.

_Too easy._

Jayden put his phone away, smiling quietly to himself. He looked up to see Madison's dark eyes watching him with great interest.

She smiled. "He is going to murder you the next time he sees you. You know that, right?"

"Who, Blake? Yeah, but it was worth it. If you see me sporting a black eye tomorrow, at least you'll know I earned it."

"So… What's going on with the coroner?"

Jayden frowned. "Am I to assume that we have come to some sort of understanding? Some sort of mutual trust in our working relationship?"

"Let's just say that I don't… NOT trust you. Yet."

"You don't trust me… but you don't NOT trust me. Yet."

Madison nodded.

Jayden shrugged. "Okay. I can deal with that."

"The coroner?"

"Sarah Bowles killed herself this morning. Her daughter is being taken into protective custody until they find the father. Trouble is nobody's… seen… Oh, that's interesting." Jayden tilted his head to the side, folding his fingers together in front of him as he contemplated.

_Nobody's seen the father since the boy disappeared. Nobody's seen the father… He disappeared after his son did._

"What? What's interesting."

"A detail I overlooked. Do you mind excusing me for a minute?"

"Not at all."

Jayden pulled his ARI glasses out and slipped them on, sighing with blissful satisfaction as the program booted up and the real world took over. This was better. This was right. The blue light that filtered over everything made the world glow with an ethereal quality. It was soothing, relaxing. He pulled his glove on and got to work, pulling out the artificial filing cabinet and finger tabbing through the folders inside until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled up the case files of the other missing boys, flicking his fingers, occasionally his wrist, to quickly scroll through the data and access the information he wanted.

Out of the corner of his eye, lurking just behind one of the files he was skimming through, he could see Madison watching him with wide-eyed interest.

Jayden's lips twitched up in the semblance of an embarrassed smile. "I'm looking through files. I'm not crazy, really."

"It looks like you're petting the air."

Jayden peered around the file. "Does it really?" He went back to reading. "I guess it would from that side of the looking glass. I usually try not to do this in front of people."

"Do what? Act schizophrenic?"

"Use ARI like this. At crime scenes, it's easier to cover up the fact that I'm using it. But actual office work? No such luck. Hide in a closet and hope people don't think you're strange. Has anyone contacted any of the fathers at all?"

"The fathers?"

"According to my files, six out of eight of the fathers seem to have disappeared completely off the face of the planet. Has anybody looked into this at all?"

"No. No, I don't think anybody's even covered that angle. Ethan is the first one to show up in the news, but he's the only single father that's been victimized. The media has been focusing on the mothers. Mothers are more sympathetic, better press. Why?"

Jayden pulled his ARI glasses off and tucked them carefully into the inside pocket of his coat and began tugging the glove off, keeping his head down and his eyes closed for a second. "I think Ethan Mars might be putting himself in danger."

"Is that your professional opinion? Because I can tell you for a fact that he is and I don't need sunglasses to do it."

Madison caught her breath when Jayden opened his eyes. They were bloodshot and glassy, like he'd been crying, but she knew he hadn't been. He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and closed them again, face twisted in pain. He took a breath and let it out, then opened his eyes again to look at her.

"Has he told you anything? Has he mentioned anything? Maybe about a ransom note or the killer contacting him somehow?"

Madison's voice was quiet. "No… no, he hasn't… Are… are you okay?"

Jayden nodded slowly. "Just tired. Getting frustrated. It's hard to do this job without leads and I'm getting precious few of them. I just wish… I wish this case was easier. I wish I had more leads to investigate, more agents to bounce ideas off of. I wish this god damned rain would stop and my headache would go away. I'm just getting tired, it's no big deal." Jayden finished his coffee.

Madison watched him silently for a moment. "I may not be a fancy FBI agent or anything… but you can still bounce ideas off me if it would help?"

Jayden tilted his head, studying her, then smiled faintly. "Thanks." He folded his fingers together very carefully as he thought.

_Corroborating with a reporter. I'll be lucky if details of my investigation aren't plastered on the front page. Hell, I'll be lucky if my drug habit isn't plastered on the front page. She SEEMS like she wants to help, but she's a journalist. She can't do her job if she doesn't SEEM trustworthy. This is a mistake… but, can it really get any worse?_

"Do you know anybody named Scott Shelby? His prints were found all over Sarah Bowles house."

"Scott Shelby? Yeah, he used to be a detective. He retired not too long after I moved here, but I still used to see him around the station a lot. He's a nice guy." Madison paused for a moment. "Actually, one of the mothers of the victims called me a few days ago and asked about him. She said he was investigating the case and she wasn't sure if she could trust him or not."

"Which mother?"

"Lauren Winter. I stayed with her the night they found John. She didn't want to be alone. I guess we connected a little."

"That doesn't help very much. If he's investigating the murders, then he was probably just there interviewing her before she killed herself." Jayden sighed. "It was almost something to go on."

"If I could get you something else… would it help?"

"At this point, I'm willing to bet that a talking donkey would be helpful. I'm getting desperate."

"Alright." Madison stood. "I can get something for you, if you don't mind waiting down here. It's just up in my room… Are you sure you're okay? Your nose is bleeding." She handed him a napkin.

"What?" Jayden blinked at her in confusion, then touched a finger to his upper lip. His hand was shaking and the world started to shift as he stared down at the bright red blood that covered his finger. It began to go out of focus.

_For fuck's sake, not now…_


	5. Chapter 5

Madison was not prepared. Whatever else she was, shocked, surprised, whatever… prepared, she was not. Not for six feet and spare change of FBI agent crumpling hard and fast towards the floor. It was either serendipity or sheer dumb luck that got her out of her chair in time to catch him. One second he was talking to her as normal as could be, the next his nose was bleeding and he was standing up… and then… Well, then he was falling down.

Madison got her arms around his waist and kept him from smacking his forehead on the table just in time. "Whoa, whoa, whoa… Easy, there, Turbo." The way she grabbed him, she couldn't support his weight for long and ended up holding him from behind as he settled on his knees. Madison leaned around to look at his face, pulling the hair back from his forehead with one hand. His red rimmed eyes were wide open, pale blue irises darting back and forth in a confused sort of terror. His skin was icy cold and clammy, as white as parchment.

"Norman, this is nuts. I'm calling an ambulance!"

He was gulping air and swallowing hard, but he shook his head vehemently while trying to stand and falling again.

"N-n-no… M'm fine…"

"Aneurysm! Brain hemorrhage! If I don't get you to a hospital now, you could die because you might be bleeding into your brain, Norman! Stop being difficult!"

He shook his head again, wrapped his fingers around her wrist and squeezed. "NO…"

"No!? You're fucking insane!" Madison looked up in frustration and caught sight of the man working behind the counter. He was watching them. Madison laughed and gestured, smiling pretty for him. "How's a girl to know he couldn't hold his tequila? He's alright. I'm just going to get him up to my room, don't worry about it."

He seemed to buy it.

_And that is why people get away with kidnapping and murder. Give them a plausible excuse and people think that it's none of their business._

Madison looked back down. Jayden had his hands pressed to his face and he was sniffling. She caught a glimpse of the blue vial as he stuffed his hand back into his coat pocket and made another effort at standing. Grinding her teeth, Madison helped him this time. He wouldn't have made it by himself, judging by how heavily he leaned against her.

"Come on, Norman, one step at a time, we'll get you out of here. Just one foot in front of the other. Easy stuff, right?"

His voice was quiet and he held tight onto her arm. "Fucking easy my fucking ass. This is fucking shit."

Step by step, they made it outside into the pouring rain. Madison tried to lead Jayden to the stairs, but he pulled away from her and lurched into the parking lot to lean against his car. He turned over, laying with his back across the hood, face turned up into the rain. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, swallowing the water as it came down.

Madison wrapped her arms around herself, watching him, unsure what to do to help. He already seemed like a different person. Different because of the drugs... "Are you okay?"

He smiled and laughed softly. "I'm fine… I'm perfect... In two minutes the world will stop spinning and I'll be as right as rain… Goddamned rain… Sorry, that's a horrible joke, isn't it?"

"You're scaring me. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic." He sat up and looked at her, rain trailing down his face and plastering his bangs to his forehead. "You said you had something. Something that could help."

"I, uh… I do. I do have something…"  _At least, Ethan does. I'm sure he won't mind if I borrow it._ "Will you be fine here while I go get it?"

Jayden nodded, then covered his face with his hands and shook his head.

_Talk about mixed signals._ "Was that a yes or a no?"

"I'm fine. Get the thing, my minds going a hundred thousand miles a minute and I need to give it someplace to go."

"Do your drugs always work this fast?"

"Very rarely, but I do have a brain aneurysm, concussion, hemorrhaging thing going on that might be working in my favor."

"That was supposed to be a trick question. You were supposed to deny it. Don't you know how this game works?"

"I know how it's supposed to work. You picked an unfortunate time to ask if I care about anything other than how nice it is when the headache goes away and I can think again. Sorry."

"You don't seem very sorry."

"That's the thing of it! I'm not! Don't get me wrong, I'll be perfectly sorry I hurt your feelings tomorrow, but right now I feel too wonderful for words and I don't want to waste a moment of it. That thing. That thing you have. You said you had something that could help."

Madison looked away. "Yeah, I'll get it." She turned quickly and jogged towards the stairs, anger and frustration boiling inside her.

_The man is insufferable and pretentious and beyond aggravating! He knows for a fact that I have a problem with drugs and he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was taking them right in front of me! Aggravating, obnoxious, stupid man! Sure, he seems like he's so smart, but he doesn't know anything! Doesn't know how much I hate him right now, doesn't even care! Dammit, why can't he be an asshole like Blake so I can turn him in and... and what? Feel better about myself? He really cares about his job... he's just a fucking addict! Dammit!_

Taking the steps two at a time got her up to the third floor in no time at all. She passed the door to her room and went down to room 207. She knocked on the door quickly. She was sure she hadn't seen Ethan's car anywhere, but she didn't think she could explain to him why she was breaking into his room. Better to be safe. Nobody came to the door… so either he wasn't here, or he was passed out on the floor again… Either way, it wouldn't hurt to get inside. She pulled a set of lock picks out of her pocket and went to work. It only took her a few seconds to manipulate the tumblers and wriggle the lock open. Easy stuff.

She opened the door and looked around. No Ethan. That was either a good thing or a bad thing. Norman was right about one thing; if Ethan wasn't here, he was putting himself in danger.

_How much more can he take before he doesn't come back again? He's already hurt himself so badly…_

She couldn't think about that now. She dropped to the floor and reached under the bed for the shoebox that she had discovered… what was it, yesterday? Had it been only yesterday when she'd found him covered in electrical burns?

_I can't take the last origami figure… Ethan will know if it's gone. But this should work._

She grabbed the only other paper inside the box, then shut the lid and pushed it back under the bed.

_I'll see if Norman can't work some magic with this. If he can't or if he needs more, I'll talk to Ethan about giving up some more of the pieces._

She looked around again. It didn't seem like he'd been back recently…

_He's alright. He's going to be alright. Just because he isn't here right now… well, he'll be back. That's all there is to it._

She shut the door behind her and hurried down the stairs. When she got down to the parking lot, Jayden was sitting cross-legged on the hood of his car. The lotus position. He was smiling his barely there smile, his face calm and serene… at peace.

He didn't open his eyes, just tilted his head towards her. "How is Mr. Mars holding up?"

"Excuse me?"

"You were just up in his room."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How did you guess?"

"You knocked on the door. And you picked the lock. Ergo, not your room."

"You saw the lock picks from all the way down here?"

"No, but…" He shook his head quickly, flinging water from his hair like a dog. His blue eyes locked onto hers, not accusing, just very amused. "You didn't lock the door when you left. A curious thing about amateurs who use lock picks. They're good at breaking in, but they rarely take the time to break out again."

"Smart ass."

"I try. Whatcha got for me?"

Madison opened the passenger side door and slid into the seat. Jayden hopped off the car hood and joined her on the other side a few seconds later. She pulled the folded paper out of the inside pocket of her jacket and handed it over. Jayden plucked it from her fingers, pale eyes bright in his face, excited and looking for all the world like a kid who gets to open a Christmas present early.

Madison watched him scan the document. "What do you make of it?"

"'When the parents came home from church, all the children were gone. They searched and called for them. They cried and begged but it was all to no avail. The children have never been seen again…' Well... Hmm. Very interesting. It's from the Pied Piper of Hamelin."

"And that means… what exactly?"

"It means it's interesting. The Pied Piper of Hamelin is loosely based on a relatively true story; at some point between the thirteenth and fifteenth century, a hundred and thirty children disappeared from a town in Germany. Historians have hypothesized that it could be attributed to a plague that came through and killed them or even a pedophile serial killer. But the story itself is about a rat catcher. The town offers to pay him an extraordinary amount of money to rid the village of rats because they've become so horribly infested and the rat catcher pulls out a magic pipe and plays a tune that leads them all into the river to drown. The townspeople are impressed with how easy it was and refuse to pay him the money they offered. The piper gets pissed, vows to get his payment one way or another and storms off. He comes back the next day and uses his pipe to lead away all the children. And there was nothing the townsfolk could do to stop him. What that could mean for our serial killer is that he identifies with the piper, that he feels he was wronged somehow, that he's doing this to punish the parents. He could feel that they deserve what's happened, that they've earned his wrath. It could mean that he's kidnapping their sons to teach them a lesson. It could also mean that he's going to keep killing until he gets what he feels he deserves."

Madison frowned. "So, what exactly is it that he thinks he deserves?"

Jayden looked at her. "I haven't the faintest fucking idea. But it's still interesting. And it supports a theory I have."

"Great. Is it going to help you catch this guy?"

"Well, let's take a look, shall we?" Jayden pulled out his sunglasses and slipped them on, the blue lights behind the lenses brightening the inside of the car. He tugged the glove on carefully then flexed his fingers over the page. "According to the FBI database, this was printed with a Royal Standard 5 typewriter."

"Does that help?"

"Typewriters have fingerprints. Over time, the keys begin to wear away and develop distinctive patterns that show up in the ink. If we catch the guy, we can match this letter to the typewriter he used, use it as evidence to prosecute him. But in the mean time… In the mean time, I can search for any stores within the geolocalizing zone that sell or repair old typewriters. Might take me some time, but it's possible that our killer may have needed to have his typewriter repaired at some point or at the very least, needed to buy a new reel of tape for it."

"You really think that somebody's going to remember a man with a typewriter?"

"And you say you're a journalist?"

"Hey, I'm a good journalist!"

"I'm just saying, I've never met a journalist who didn't like old typewriters. Here's how it helps. If you like antiques, you remember antiques, particularly ones from the early nineteen hundreds. I just need to ask the right person. There's a possibility I could get a name for the owner. The type of person who deals in old fashioned merchandise usually keeps old fashioned records and receipts. Remembers the customers that he or she gets. It's a long shot, but it's something I can work with. In short, this helps a great deal. Thank you."

"So what happens now?"

"Now I drop you off at your motorcycle and go check out these leads."

"Leads… plural?"

"While we were drinking coffee, there was a video uploaded to my files database. It shows an '83 Chevrolet Malibu arriving and leaving the scene of Shaun Mars' disappearance. Can't see the driver's face, but the camera was able to catch the VIN number on the car. It was reported stolen almost ten years ago. The man accused of stealing it has a rap sheet about a mile long and specializes in detailing stolen cars. If I play my cards right, I might find out who wound up with it. We'll see."

"Let me come with."

"What? No." Jayden turned to look at her, frowning. "Why?"

"I could help."

"I don't think so."

"Why? You'd rather take Blake?"

"Blake? That's a funny suggestion! No, I've learned that I can't take Blake anywhere without me winding up between our suspect and Blake's fists. My head's already feeling tender so I think I'll take my chances alone."

"I thought you FBI guys never went anywhere without back up."

Jayden turned his face away from her, whatever amusement that had been there from their casual bantering quickly vanishing.

_I guess that was the wrong thing to say… I wonder why_.

Jayden pulled his glasses off and ran a hand through his hair, brushing the wet strands away from his eyes, stone faced and somber. "It may have escaped your notice, but I didn't come here with back up. It would be silly of me to expect any. As far as you coming with me, I'm afraid it's out of the question."

"Why? You think I'm going to get mugged in an antique shop?"

"I don't think that…"

"Do I have to remind you who exactly it was that saved your ass a few hours ago? Oh! Let's see… that was… ME, wasn't it?"

Madison could see his jaw flex as he ground his teeth. "That isn't the point."

"What is the point? You think just because I'm a girl-"

"That has NOTHING to do with it! You're a civilian. I'm a federal agent. Your safety is my responsibility and I cannot allow you to-"

"I can take care of myself thank you very much! You needn't worry your pretty head about being responsible for me."

"Oh? As evidenced by you being trapped in a basement by a psychotic nut job of a doctor, no doubt?"

"I was in the middle of escaping when you blundered in, Galahad. I would have done just FINE by myself!"

"'Fine' she says! Just fucking fine!" Jayden took a breath and let it out slowly, visibly getting a rein on his temper. "You said it yourself, Madison. If I… If I lose my concentration… in a difficult situation, the chances are that I would get myself killed. If you're with me, then you… Christ, Madison, I could get you killed, too! Do you understand that? And no, I don't think you'll get mugged in an antique shop because, quite frankly, I would personally be too terrified of you to mug you in an antique shop, but Jackson Neville, the man I have to talk to today, is considered armed and extremely dangerous and I doubt very much he'll be happy to have me sniffing around. What I need… What I NEED is for you to… to not be there so I… so…"

He made a fist and pressed it to his mouth, closing his eyes and breathing out quick through his nose.

Madison felt her anger leaving her. It was like being angry at a puppy dog. A puppy dog with big floppy ears and his paws going every which way but the way they were supposed to. She just couldn't do it for long. She sighed then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He was startled and turned his electric blue eyes her way, staring into her as if he could read her soul and she smiled for him. "It's very sweet of you to be concerned, Norman, but I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself."

Jayden's eyebrows wrinkled as he stared at her for some moments, then he turned to look at the rain trailing down the windshield, frowning in confusion. "I just lost the argument, didn't I?"

"Afraid so."

"But that can't be right. I never lose the argument."

"Don't think of it as losing so much as conceding to the unstoppable force."

"You cheated."

"I used the tools at my disposal."

"Kissing is cheating. It is completely and one hundred percent against the rules."

"That wasn't really a kiss, more like a smooch on the cheek."

"It's still cheating."

"So? Do I get to come along?"

"No." Madison opened her mouth to interject, but Jayden held up a hand to stop her. "Dat! Don't interrupt! I have a compromise."

Madison tilted her head to the side. "Compromise?"

"Yes. A compromise. If you really want to help as much as you do, why don't you take the typewriter lead and I'll follow up the Malibu? Don't give me that look! It's an important lead, I promise you. And if you do this for me then that's less groundwork that I have to do myself. Shaun doesn't have enough time for me to be hoofing it around the city and this will be a tremendous help to me."

"And you don't want me tracking down the car because it's too dangerous."

"Not at all. I don't want you tracking down the car because I'll be tracking down the car and we both know that my inept field agent skills are going to get me in trouble and I need you free and available to run to the police and tell them to come rescue my silly ass. See? That… THAT is an important job."

"Now you're patronizing me."

"Not at all, cupcake. Agh! Don't hit me! It was a joke!"

Madison punched him in the shoulder again for good measure. "Don't call me cupcake again and I won't have to hit you again."

Jayden laughed and shook his head. "Sounds like a deal to me." The smile faded from his face. "You know, I think you might have another important job to do." He pointed to a lone figure, arms wrapped around himself in a tight hug as he slowly climbed the stairs to the third floor. "If I'm not mistaken, that is a man who just looked at himself in the mirror and didn't like what he saw."

Madison's breath caught. "Ethan…" She opened the door and began to get out, but a gentle hand on her elbow stopped her.

Jayden was holding out a business card. "If he gets in over his head, Madison, you call me, alright?"

"You're worried about Ethan, too?"

"I've only spoken to him a little bit, but he seems to be suffering from a post traumatic personality disorder. If he isn't careful, he could develop a full psychotic break from reality. That would be bad."

Madison smiled. "A psychotic break would be bad? Is that your professional opinion as a psychiatrist?"

"Criminologist. Psychiatrists get to work with the bat shit crazy people BEFORE they leave a body trail. Meeting a guy before he snaps is a first for me, but I can tell you that the best medical advice is to keep him as stress free as possible. Good luck with that." Jayden pulled out a pen and scrawled on the back of his business card. "This is the hotel I'm staying at and these are the antique shops within the geolocalizing zone. I should be done at the junkyard by two or three. If I'm not… call in the cavalry."

Madison took the card. "Mind if I ask another personal question?"

"Lady, I've told you about a quarter of my life story. You've already become intimately acquainted with the skeleton in my closet. How much more personal can you get?"

"The police are looking for Ethan. You just saw him. Why don't you arrest him?"

"Oh, lots of reasons. Because I'm not the police. Because the evidence against Ethan Mars is circumstantial at best. Because if I was a father who'd lost a son in a tragic car accident that put me in a coma, then saw on the news that other people's sons were being murdered, I would probably have a paranoid fixation on origami and drowning bodies as well. Well, maybe not, but psychology being the big giant fucking Rorschach that it is, I can at least understand how he COULD be fixating and still not be the killer. Because I have a strong feeling that arresting Ethan Mars is going to be about as helpful in this investigation as a tap dancing sea turtle. Because... Because Blake is bound and determined to crucify him, and I think that arresting him is going to set him up for some grievous bodily harm at the hands of an insane police interrogator. Just a suspicion. I could be wrong… but I don't think I am. Any of those satisfy your curiosity?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Madison smiled. "Hey, maybe Blake's the killer. Did you ever think of that?"

"Blake? Believe me, I've thought of it. I wish it was him, but it's not."

"How do you know?"

"Blake is a psychopathic asshole who was probably abused as a child, but he's not the Origami Killer. Blake is aggressive and can't control his temper. If he was going to kill someone, he'd do it with his hands, he'd want to be able to feel it, blood spatters, screams, the whole nine yards. He likes the power and he likes to hurt people. Our killer is methodical, cool, collected, doesn't interact with the boys he kidnaps, at least not physically. Not the same personality at all. Neither is Mars for that matter. Mars seems like he's barely holding himself together. And no, that wasn't a joke about his finger so don't punch me for it."

"One more question. Why do you trust me?"

Jayden smirked. "What makes you think I trust you?"

"You're talking to me, aren't you?"

"Maybe I'm just lonely." He nodded towards the stairs. "Go make sure he's alright. I'll catch up with you later."

Madison got out of the car, then turned and looked at him through the open door. "You know, just because you're a nice guy and you saved my life… it doesn't mean I've forgiven you for the drug habit."

Jayden nodded slowly. "It was your brother wasn't it? The one who overdosed on drugs?"

Madison blinked quickly and shook her head. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Just a guess. I was thinking it could have been a parent, but you don't seem like the type. I'm very sorry about your brother."

"Yeah, so was I."

"Take care of Ethan. Try not to let him get into too much trouble."

"I'll try, but no promises. Stay safe, Galahad."

Jayden smirked. "No promises. Hey, Madison? It's nice to be able to talk to someone who doesn't want to kick me in the teeth. You're nice to talk to. Even if you are a reporter." He winked at her as she shut the door. Madison watched as Jayden started the car and pulled away. She wrapped her arms around herself and watched until she couldn't see his car anymore.

_Why? Why does he have to be a nice guy? Why can't he just be an asshole all the time so I can hate him like I want to?_

She looked down at the business card in her hand and the three antique stores he'd written on the back.

_FBI agents aren't supposed to trust reporters and here he is giving me an errand to run for him. He's supposed to keep me away from the investigation, at arm's distance, so what exactly is this game he's playing? Is he just toying with me?_

Too many questions. Madison put the business card in her pocket. Answers would come eventually if she was patient. In the meantime, she had to go check on Ethan.


	6. Chapter 6

Madison was twitching with nervous energy as she rode the elevator to the sixth floor of the hotel Norman was staying at. She was angry and she intended to let him know in no uncertain terms. It was nearing midnight, there was no reason why he wouldn't be in. He might even be asleep. That would be perfect. She wanted to wake him up and tell him just what she thought of him. She jumped when the phone in her pocket rang.

Glancing at the caller ID, she flipped open the phone. "Sam, tell me you got something on that sorry son of a bitch."

//Wow. Not an ex-boyfriend, is he?//

"No, he's just the lying rat bastard that had my… my friend arrested today."

_Can you really call somebody a boyfriend after three days? Is that even the type of relationship I want with him? There will be time to sort it out later, but at least it sounds good for now._

She could almost hear Sam on the other end of the phone wincing in sympathy for the man that had earned her wrath. //Ouch…//

"Just tell me you got something."

//It wasn't easy, Mad. And I didn't find much. For the MOST part, the guy's a boy scout.//

"Yeah, but you got something, right?"

//You know, there's more red tape wrapped around the ARI project than there was for Watergate and Roswell combined. You know that, right? You're digging into some serious business here, girl.//

"Yes, but you got something for me, right Sam?" She was getting impatient.

//Of course I got something for you, Mad. I've got magic in me that you can't pay to see on the Las Vegas strip.//

"Great! Let's hear it!"

//Don't get your hopes up, it's nothing concrete, right? So, let's start at the beginning, shall we?Special Agent Norman Jayden is the only son of Monica and Henry Jayden. Monica is still alive and works as the head nurse in the Emergency Room at Boston General. Henry was a police officer, a detective, with the Boston PD until he was shot and killed off duty in a drug store hold up. Norman was ten at the time. He took it pretty well, it seems. He graduated from High School at the top of his class at the tender age of fifteen, went to college with a full scholarship and left nine years later with two Master's Degrees in Criminal Justice and Forensic Investigation and a PhD in Criminal Psychology. Four point student all the way, graduated with honors, etc., etc.. He applied to the FBI the day he met the minimum age requirement, got accepted, made it through boot camp with flying colors. No problems for this kid until about a year later. Then he shows up in every drug rehab clinic and counseling program known to man.//

"Yeah, he told me about that."

//Then you also know that he helped take down a criminal drug ring and was awarded both the FBI Star AND the FBI Medal of Valor.//

"That part he didn't tell me."

//The Star is awarded for serious injury sustained in the direct line of duty and the Medal of Valor is for exceptional acts of heroism.//

"He said he got shot while he was hiding behind a pile of drugs. Didn't sound very heroic to me."

_Lying bastard._

//Well, if that's what he said, then I guess he would know, but what his file says is that he was shot while pulling his injured partner to safety and that he exchanged fire with the perpetrators for close to five minutes until backup arrived. Most shootouts are over and done with in thirty to forty five seconds. Five minutes is pretty impressive.//

_He's still a lying bastard. I REFUSE to be impressed._

The elevator chimed and the doors opened onto the sixth floor. She stepped out into the hallway. She looked up and down, trying to discern a direction to travel, then gave up and began pacing slowly back and forth in front of the elevators.

"Okay, so what then?"

//Then… well, the kid's a hero. The drug thing is a hiccup in an otherwise stellar and bright looking career, but everyone's bound and determined to help him get over it. So, they keep the poor kid on a tight leash for the next couple of years, reassign him to the Behavioral Analysis Unit where he can excel and they can keep an eye on him and things go peachy for a while. Then the ARI program comes along.//

"Sounds ominous. This is where it gets intriguing, right?"

//Right. ARI stands for Added Reality Interface. It consists of a pair a goggles or glasses and a glove, kind of like the old Nintendo Virtual Boy only a thousand times more sophisticated. So, these glasses are like a super computer hooked directly into your brain, right? They allow you to instantly access files, databases, address books, records… I mean, you name it, it's in there. The glove allows the user to interact with the environment, scan things like fingerprints, blood work…//

"Typewriter fonts."

//Yeah, yeah… that too, I guess. All in all, a pretty innovative system.//

"Where's the catch?"

//Well, here's where it gets shady. The FBI are eager to get this system into the field, they figure it can increase efficiency and cut down on processing time, really help the works. They take thirty volunteers from all different fields, best of the best and all that, and give them these glasses and say 'Have at it.'//

"And Norman was one of those thirty volunteers?"

//You got it.//

"So? What happened?"

//For about six months, everything seems to work without a hitch, so the FBI gets ready to mass distribute ARI to all their field agents, then something goes wrong. Some of the test subjects start showing bizarre symptoms. Hallucinations, migraines, paranoid behavior, uncontrollable rages. Weird shit. And it just goes downhill from there. Long story short, the ones who didn't commit suicide all died from--//

"Don't tell me. Their brains exploded and leaked out of their eye sockets."

//Close enough for horse shoes. Brain aneurysms and massive hemorrhaging. Every last one of them.//

"All of them?"

//All of them except Norman Jayden.//

"And the doctors have no idea what's keeping him alive…"

//Got it in one, Mad. Anyways, my sources tell me that his assignment to the Origami Killer case was just a way to get him out of town for a few days. There's a lot of anger and distrust going around the office, if you get my drift. A lot of good agents died and nobody understands why so they're blaming the kid because he should be dead too and he isn't. It's not very fair, but it's how people are.//

None of that was what she really wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that he was horrible and untrustworthy and that he was involved with all sorts of bad things. She didn't want to feel sorry for him, didn't want to be in awe of him. What she wanted was a good reason to hate him, especially after what he did today.

Madison sighed. "Thanks, Sam."

//No problem. But all of this is HIGHLY classified, so you never heard it from me, right?//

"Don't even know you, Sam."

//Good girl. You take care of yourself, okay?//

"I will."

Madison flipped the phone shut and slipped it into her pocket.

_Great. Just what I needed. Now, he's Norman Jayden, FBI AND certified hero. Fan-fucking-tastic._   _And now my inner voice is starting to sound like him, too. Just great._

She strode down the hall, angry and upset, glancing at the card he'd given her to hunt down his room. In the end, it wasn't that hard to find. It was the only door in the long hallway that wasn't shut all the way.

_Curious._

Madison pushed open the door. The room was dark, not a single light was on.

_Great. So he ISN'T here._

Thunder crashed outside, a suitable counterpoint to her mood. From the light of the hallway, she could see part of the room, a corner of the bed, an overturned chair… a smashed lamp on the floor, a half empty bottle of vodka laying on its side at the foot of the dresser. None of it seemed right. Madison took a tentative step into the faux hallway that led into the room.

A cold voice froze her in her tracks. "Hands in the air, asshole!"

She did as she was told. "It seems to me that I'm not the asshole in this relationship."

"Madison?"

"Who else would it be?"

"Sorry. Didn't see you."

"No shit, Sherlock. You've got all the lights off."

"I do, don't I?" He sounded funny. Well, not funny exactly, just slightly off somehow.

"I'm not in the mood to play cute with you, Jayden."

He was silent for a moment. His voice was cold when he spoke again. "I see we have devolved in our relationship, Miss Paige. You want to explain, or do you want me to start guessing?" His words were a little slurred. That's what it was. He must have been drinking. It only made her angrier.

"Don't be so fucking coy, jerkoff. You know what you did!"

"Oh, I do, do I?"

"And after being so sweet and understanding in the car! Of course, you've had practice lying to people for all these years, it must come so easy to you. And there I was lapping it up like some starry-eyed teenager… Shows how much I know!"

His strangely calm tone of voice was at odds with his words. "You're starting to piss me off."

"I trusted you, you son of a bitch!"

Still calm. Why couldn't she get a rise out of him, make him scream at her? You couldn't have a good screaming match with somebody if they refused to raise their voice in return. He was still so damned calm. "I have a gun and a migraine, Miss Paige. Could you try to keep your voice down?"

"You lied to me, you bastard!"

"I still don't know what you're talking about. And at this point I really can't say that I care too much, either."

"You're not even going to apologize?"

"Lady, I have been dropped into a car compacter and run through with a katana today. I have been beaten up and strung out to dry and I hurt like fucking hell and I am NOT in the mood to hear you whine and bitch at me like some goddamned harpy! You got something you want to say to me then FUCKING SAY IT!"

_There we go. That's what I wanted._

"Why did you call the police, Jayden? You could have arrested him anytime you wanted, so why did you lie to me and call the fucking police?"

"Wh… " He laughed. He actually had the nerve to laugh. "Madison, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"You don't think it's a coincidence that not even two hours after you left, Blake and the entire SWAT team show up to arrest Ethan?"

"About as coincidental as the fact that there's an APB out on his car, or that the receptionist at your little love bungalow is about as slimy a parasite as you can find in the human species, or maybe even that Ethan's picture has been getting more screen time than Paris Hilton's sex video. Those are ALL coincidences, right? They couldn't possibly have anything to do with how the police found him."

"So, what? If it wasn't you, then why didn't you call me and tell me they were coming?"

"I was busy! As I recall, two hours after I left you… let's see. Oh, yeah! That's right! I was trying very hard not to be ground into hamburger meat at the time. But you're right. I should have been more focused on you. How was your day, sweetheart? Oh and how is Ethan, by the way? Did he get away alright or do I have to go bust him out of holdup?"

"Blake has him."

"Fuck…" Madison could hear him sliding against the wall. When he spoke next, it was from somewhere near the floor. "This hasn't been a good day, has it?" He sounded tired, world weary. "Just out of curiosity, did you learn anything from Paco Mendes while you were there? Something? Anything? So I can maybe pretend this day hasn't been a COMPLETE waste of my life?" He must have seen the questioning look on her face, though how he could have in this darkness was anybody's guess. "Don't give me that look, Maddy, your fingerprints were all over the place. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you were in the vicinity. I kind of figure that you were lucky enough to get out of there before the hulking behemoth with the sword showed up, you know, seeing as you're here screaming at me and not rotting dead in a dumpster somewhere. Hey, while we're on the topic, don't you ever, EVER pull that shit again, do you hear me?"

"What shit would that be?"

"Paco Mendes is a very dangerous criminal. You had no business being there and you certainly should have known better than to go alone."

"How did this get to be about me?"

"You could have been killed today! Do you not realize that?"

"We've already had this discussion! I can take care of myself!"

"Yeah, but I can't… I don't know." His voice was quiet, almost defeated sounding. "I'll let you in on a secret… I'm barely holding it together here. Nobody thinks I'm going to succeed. Nobody wants me to. They're all waiting to see me fail, to see me get what I deserve. And maybe that is what I deserve, but it's not what Joe Rhoades deserves or Tommy Thompson or, or Joyce and Tasha or… or any of the other names on my list of people that I've let down… that I've FAILED… If I don't pull some magic out of my sleeve soon, Shaun and Ethan Mars are gonna be on that list too. I'm barely holding it together here, Maddy, and if I had to walk into the morgue and see you laying on an autopsy table… if I had to tell the mortician that 'Yeah, I know this girl, she was helping me with a case…' Christ!"

His voice was shaking with emotion and he hiccuped softly in the dark. Madison carefully felt her way along the wall until she was close to him. She slid down the wall herself and reached out until her fingertips brushed against his bare arm. She felt him flinch at her touch. His skin was like ice.

"Norman, don't tell me you're this upset because of me."

"I shouldn't be, should I? One more name… what's one more goddamned name? The albatross around my neck is already big enough to choke me to death. I don't think I would be able… I just don't think I could deal with it. Especially not if that name was you. I guess I'm selfish. Yeah… Yeah, I think that's me being selfish. In my own self interest, I am asking you, could you please promise me, PLEASE… don't pull that shit anymore? For my sake?"

"I wasn't in any danger. I handled it. Everything's fine."

"Uh-huh… No danger… I guess that's why I found Paco Mendes with a bullet in his head, huh? No danger…"

Madison was shocked. "That can't be right… He was alive when I left."

"And he was dead when I found him. I figure you must have gotten lucky by about a minute and a half. I saw your motorcycle outside, so factor in the time it would have taken for you to get from the office and out to the street, assuming you passed me at some point in the club… You got lucky, Madison. You missed coming face to face with the Origami Killer by a minute and a half, maybe two at the most. And he isn't a tiny little weasel like your doctor was, either."

Madison felt her blood go cold. "He… He… He might not have killed me. He left you alive, didn't he?"

She could only see his outline, even from this close, as he turned to stare at her. "You must have missed it when I said he stabbed me with a fucking katana. It's just possible he might have thought that would sufficiently do the job."

"He didn't really stab you with a katana, did he?"

"You better believe he did. Right in the shoulder. And it hurts like a bitch, too, now that we're on the subject."

"Let me see."

"Please don't, you're just going to make it hurt worse. I remember what you did to my arm."

Madison frowned. "Well, I can't see in this light." She stood and leaned into what must have been the bathroom, looking for the light switch.

"No!"

Too late. Jayden cried out in pain and covered his face with his hands as light flooded the dark hotel room. Now she could see that he wore only a black pair of sweat pants and his torso was literally covered in dark green and purple bruises. His arm still held the bandage that she had put on just that morning, but it had bled heavily and the gauze was more rusty brown than white. The only part of his body, in fact, that didn't look injured were his bare feet. Jayden groaned softly.

"I'm sorry!" She knelt by his side. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even think about your eyes."

Jayden's voice was muffled by his hands. "It's fine… I'm fine… nothing like a little searing agony to wake you up…" He lowered his hands, eyes squeezed tightly shut, face contorted in pain.

Madison's fingers were feather light as she touched his shoulder. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I told you. I was handcuffed to the steering wheel of my car and dropped, yes dropped… car, steering wheel and all… INTO a car compacter. While it was running. The compacter, not the car. Then, I got beat up by a guy the size of a Clydesdale. You'll notice that I carefully avoided the euphemism 'I was in a fight'. Because that wasn't a fight. That was me getting beat up. There's no denying it, so I'm not even going to try."

"So, he just beat the shit out of you and let you go?"

"Nope. Squished him with a bulldozer. Then I had to find a cab, IN THE RAIN, in some backwoods part of town that I wouldn't feel comfortable in even if I was surrounded by a whole squad of the toughest beat cops New York had to offer. That was a nightmare. And then I got beaten up again. AND stabbed with a katana. That is what the hell happened to me today. How are you? Have fun at the antique store?"

"Well, I have good news and bad news about the antique store… Do you have anything to disinfect this cut with at least?" It was an ugly cut just above his chest on the left side, right under the clavicle. Sure enough, it had a matching wound on his back shoulder. It was only about two inches wide, but if that couldn't be considered a 'deep' cut, then she didn't know what would.

"Christ… I've got some vodka left, but I think that's about it."

"You've got to be joking."

"Lady, this isn't the Ritz Carlton. Maybe at fancy hotels, they keep trauma kits in the mini-bar just in case, but my salary can only afford the hotels that stop at the complimentary shampoo and continental breakfast."

Madison hadn't realized that she'd started gently rubbing his arm, trying to offer him some comfort. She hadn't even realized that she'd stopped being angry. "Oh, it can't be that bad. Have you seen the size of the big screen in this room? It's got to be a little impressive, don't you think? And that bed looks comfy. I bet they even washed the sheets before you got here."

Jayden chuckled a little, relaxing back against the wall. He still kept his eyes closed, but his face had evened into a less agonized expression. "You said you had good news about the antique shop?"

"Yeah. The good news is that it was an excellent lead just like you said it would be and I even found the shop where the killer's type writer was bought or repaired. Only shop in town that repairs Royal 5's."

"I'm almost too afraid to ask. Where's the 'but'?"

"BUT… the killer thought it was a good lead, too. He got there before me. Police and crime scene tape everywhere. The owner got wheeled out in a body bag. I don't think his chances were too good."

"And the odds of the killer leaving anything incriminating behind… Well, damn."

"That's what I said."

"Thanks for checking it out for me, all the same."

"I kind of wish I had given you that paper sooner."

"It wouldn't have happened sooner. No sense worrying about it." Jayden put his right hand up to cover his eyes and squinted, trying to open them a little at a time. It obviously caused him pain. "Agh. Fuck."

"Did ARI do that to you?"

"What?" He turned his head toward her, and she could see his eyes now. His pale blue irises were glassy and dilated, but that's not what shocked her. The whites of his eyes… they were the deep, bright red of pickled beets.

"Shit, Norman, your eyes are bleeding."

"What?" The color drained from his face and he lurched to his feet, stumbling franticly into the bathroom. She followed him, watching as he closely examined the mirror.

_The way he reacted, I guess the joke about his brain bleeding out of his eye sockets isn't so much of a joke after all._

He saw her watching and laughed softly in embarrassment. "You scared me. You should have said bloodshot. Bleeding is a whole different sort of problem."

"Your drug problem... It's not about the triptocaine at all, is it? ARI is the drug. ARI is what's killing you, isn't it?"

"I don't… I don't know what you're talking about." He turned on the taps and ran his hands under the water, splashing his face. He looked deathly ill in the harsh light of the bathroom.

"I had a friend check up on you… I was angry, I wanted to make you just as angry as I was. I wanted to hurt you."

She could see in the mirror the ghost of a smile. "And now you've seen the error of your ways? You went through all that effort and all you had to do was come up here and turn the lights on."

"Norman, those twenty nine people that died—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"ARI killed them. It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I'm not doing anything… It's my job. I'm doing my job."

Madison turned her back on him, walking out into the still dark room. The light from the bathroom fell on the half empty bottle of vodka on the floor and she picked it up, swilling the liquid around. She sat on the edge of the bed and took a swallow, wincing as the harsh liquid burned down her throat. She felt the bed dip as Jayden sat next to her. She handed him the bottle and he took it, swallowing some himself before he set it carefully on the floor.

He was quiet for some time before he spoke. "The migraines… The migraines are the worst part of it at first. That's when I slipped. I just couldn't stand the pain anymore. Triptocaine makes the pain go away, but it does more than that. Have you ever had a computer with a full hard drive? You know how everything slows way down and you can't do anything because the computer is struggling to find space for your programs to run? And then it crashes… It just can't cope. That's what ARI does to your brain. It fills it with so much information, so fast, you can barely keep up with it all. Your brain just can't cope and then it crashes. But triptocaine… it makes everything so much clearer. You forget about all the little things on the side, about stuff you don't need to know like birthdays and anniversaries and the name of your first dog and the street number of your house when you were in grade school... it blocks it all out. It lets you focus. And it makes the pain go away."

He reached up to brush a tear off his cheek, before continuing, "It was such a relief when I started using that first time, but I was so scared… I never meant to slip and I was so scared to tell anybody because they would have been so disappointed in me. I would have lost my job… So I kept it to myself. I mean, all of us were trying to cope, we were all desperate. We all did what we could… My coping mechanism… just happened to be countering the worst of the effects. And I kept it to myself. Then they started dying, and it would happen fast… So fast. There wasn't any prolonged hospital visits, they would just… One guy just snapped in the break room. He pulled his gun and started screaming about fire demons. He killed a pregnant mother and one of the secretaries before they gunned him down. And Joe… Joe was my partner. I was talking to him. He was getting a glass of water. He started crying, but it wasn't tears, it was blood and then he just fell down. He was gone. Just like that."

Jayden dropped his head and ran his hand through his hair. He cleared his throat. "You know… it's not… When I said that triptocaine lets me function, what I probably should have said is that it keeps me alive so that I CAN function. It's a little like leaning out over a cliff and the only thing keeping you up is a gust of wind. If the wind stops blowing, you fall. If the edge you're standing on crumbles, you fall… And there's nothing you can do to get to safer ground… just hold your breath and pray the wind keeps blowing."

Madison scooted a little closer to him on the bed. She leaned sideways so her head brushed his shoulder, not enough to cause him pain, just enough so that he could feel the contact. He looked down at her and she smiled up at him. She kept the tone of her voice light. "You know… that's what friends are for. To grab you by the belt and yank you backwards so you fall on your ass and they can laugh at you and call you a dumbass for getting out so far."

"Really. That's what friends are for, huh?"

"Yup. Really, really."

"It's a shame I don't have any of those."

"You've got me."

He smiled at her and closed his eyes, apparently at peace with the thought. He slowly, very slowly wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her, a light hug of gratitude. Then she saw his smile turn to a frown. "But you're a journalist. Are journalists even allowed to have friends? Don't hit me! For the love of God, please don't hit me! You know that was a joke and I already hurt."

"I'm not going to hit you this time. You look like you've had enough for one day."

"And it's not even over yet. You still haven't told me what you found out from Paco."

"Actually, that might be a bit of good news. I found out the name of the man who rented the apartment from Dr. Death. John Sheppard. Does that ring any bells?"

"It sounds like it should… but it doesn't. It's familiar, like I've seen it or heard it recently… I don't know. I'm gonna have to take a look."

"Norman..."

"Five minutes. Five minutes isn't going to kill me." He removed his arm from around Madison's shoulder and stood, wincing from the pain caused by moving his tortured and abused muscles after they had settled into a relaxed position. He stretched a little and Madison took the opportunity to grab his hand. Startled, Jayden looked down to meet her eyes.

"You don't know that. Joe Rhoades certainly didn't think five more minutes was going to kill him, did he?"

Jayden flinched as if she had just slapped him. Then he recovered and smiled his faint smile. "Playing hard ball again? Well, it's very sweet of you to be concerned, but I'm a big boy and I can take care of myself." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, then ruffled her hair. He walked over to the desk by the window and sat in the chair, pulling the glasses on with a practiced gesture.

Madison sat on the bed and watched him flicking through invisible files, wondering what it was that he saw through those glasses.

_It would have to be pretty spectacular… to make people even WANT to continue using it… especially with death as a side effect._

"I knew I'd seen that name before! It doesn't make much sense in context, but maybe… John Sheppard is the name of an eight year old boy who'd been killed on a construction site thirty four years ago. He fell into a water pipe and drowned. The owner of the construction site is Charles Kramer and the reason I'd read that name before is because his son, Gordi Kramer, was the leading suspect for a while. We had evidence that he had killed one boy, Joseph Brown, but his father… through means unknown… convinced the police to drop the charges against him. It was obviously a copycat crime, and we would never have made the others stick, but it was a curious connection… I thought that maybe Charles Kramer was the killer for a while, actually. I mean, it could have fit. The guy feels a deep sense of remorse for the death of the first child, who incidentally drowned in rain water, then later in life, something snaps… and the son copies the father's crime to earn his approval. It could have fit… would have been nice anyway. Too bad for alibis."

Madison knelt beside him, the way she would have if she were collaborating with somebody over a computer screen, but there was no screen for her to look at. It was a familiar motion, but a decidedly unfamiliar situation. Having nothing else to look at, she looked at Jayden. He seemed very relaxed, almost devoid of emotion while he had his glasses on. The pain didn't seem to be bothering him now.

He flicked his wrist a few more times. "Umm… it looks like John Sheppard had a twin brother. There was an investigation into the family shortly after John's death and CPS put the brother into protective custody. His name was Scott Sheppard then, but after CPS got a hold of him, his name doesn't exist anywhere. He was probably adopted and took the name of the family that adopted him. It's a bit of a long shot, but I think I would be very keenly interested in meeting this Scott Sheppard."

"Can you find out who adopted him? Find out what his name is now?"

"No. You'd have to be the son of God to get through all the red tape and bullshit they've got around adoption records and I doubt even He could get it done in less than a week."

"There has to be a way we can find him. There has to be somebody who knew him back then. People don't just disappear off the face of the Earth, right? Somebody has to know."

"I bet Kramer might know. He paid for John's funeral, it's possible he kept tabs on Scott as well."

"Maybe his family? Is his father still alive? Or his mother?"

"Father, no… Mother… was institutionalized shortly after Scott was taken away… and it looks like now she's in a geriatric hospital not far from here."

"Great, let me grab a piece of paper so I can write down the address…" Madison stood and rooted around for a pen and paper.

_There's always pens and paper in hotel rooms, right? Just like shampoo._

She found them on the far nightstand and hurried back. Norman hadn't moved, but something was wrong. His hand seemed frozen in the air and it was trembling… shaking. "Norman?"

That's when she saw it. A single drop of blood rolling slowly down his cheek…


	7. Chapter 7

The first warning sign he should have seen, Jayden thought, was the environment. He hadn't chosen one when he'd sat down to find John Sheppard, and yet one had taken the liberty of sneaking up on him while he wasn't paying attention. Of course he'd seen them so many times, it was more real to him to be there on the bottom of the ocean while he flipped through files than it was to be in a hotel room, or a dusty, forgotten closet in a building.

The sunlight filtering through the warm tropical blue water was a welcome sight in this gloomy, rain drenched city. The tropical fish that swam to and fro amongst the reef were far friendlier than Lieutenant Blake and Captain Perry, so why should he be unhappy to see them now? It simply never occurred to him.

The second warning sign should have been more obvious, but he'd been reading, paying more attention to the file in front of him, the newspaper articles detailing the tragedy of the Sheppard children, that he honestly didn't see it happen. The sunlight had gone away, turning the ocean water around him from the bright, safe tropical lagoon into something more akin to a dark and murky abyss. He had been honing in on the twin brother, Scott Sheppard, when all the fish had vanished, disappearing into whatever virtual refuge they had to them.

Somewhere in the real world, he could still hear Madison's voice, feel the touch of her warm fingers on his skin. That was when he did notice, FINALLY, that something was very wrong here. Sharks… BIG sharks had begun to swim casually through the coral reef. Norman felt his heart rate speed up. They weren't entering the area where he sat at his desk, but he could see them briefly here and there as they swam past just outside the rocks. He could see their teeth…

"Norman!" Madison's panicked voice broke through the rising terror.

_That's right. This isn't real, it's just a hologram._

He reached up to pull his glasses off, because the easiest, quickest way to turn off the hologram was to unhook the computer. The trouble came when pulling the glasses off didn't do anything. He could still see the sharks. He lurched up out of his seat, stumbling backwards. Something caught him and he cried out, turning quickly to see what it was that grabbed him.

A large squid darted away from him, flitting past without a sound, but it wasn't the squid that had grabbed him. It was a hand, a human hand. A real hand from the real world.

"Madison?" He couldn't see her. She wasn't in this place, but he knew she was there, just outside of the hologram.

"Everything's going to be fine, just tell me how to help!"

_I wish I knew!_

Jayden turned his terrified gaze back out into the water. One of the sharks had slipped past the protective ring of coral and was swimming this way. His pulse was pounding and he was beginning to hyperventilate as he stumbled back and away from the looming shark ahead of him.

_Fucking Jaws is coming to eat me and I can't fucking turn him off!_

Hands caught him around his waist and held him tight. "Norman!"

The image rippled and dissolved and he was back in the hotel room. He turned his head to see Madison's face, pale and just as terrified looking as he felt. He was shaking, from fear, from relief… His legs buckled underneath him and he slipped bonelessly to the floor… just in time for the ocean to come flooding back to him, just in time to see the white belly of the enormous great white shark gliding slowly past above him.

_This isn't right! This isn't how this works! The glasses are off! This is just a hologram… no, a hallucination. Just take a deep breath and get control yourself. If you just stay in control, everything will be fine. Take a deep breath and get yourself together._

Except he couldn't take a deep breath. The pounding, pulsing torment in his head was killing him and making his breath come in short, pained gasps. He had thought that he had been in pain before, thought the migraines couldn't get much worse, but it was nothing compared to the tortuous agony that assailed him now. It made him sick, made him want to die, to sink into the blackness, anything to end the misery that assaulted him. And that was to say nothing of the sheer terror of watching helplessly while his mind took off without him like a runaway rollercoaster, to know without a doubt that he was only imagining this, dreaming it… hallucinating.

_Triptocaine… Dammit, if there was ever a time to need it… Triptocaine… There's a vial in my nightstand but how the hell am I going to find it here?_

There was nothing in the dark, forbidding ocean scene that he could see that even remotely resembled a nightstand. Jayden was never more terrified in his life. Another shark was swimming this way, it's jaw hanging slack and open, it's dead fish eyes staring into his soul as it passed by him, so close he thought if he reached out, he could have touched it.

Another shadow loomed in front of his face and reached out for him. He couldn't stop the fearful cry that rose in his throat like bile.

The vision shimmered again and Madison's soft hands held his face, her earnest brown eyes filling the center of his focus. "Norman! Norman, stay with me! Stay with me, please God, don't do this to me!"

_Madison! Madison can find it!_

"Trip… tripto… nightstand… hurry…"

She moved away from his vision, leaving him staring up at the lights in the ceiling of his hotel room as they swirled and morphed back into sharks. His mind was going… it had never been this bad before!

He was surrounded by darkness and cold and the sharks were circling closer. He wasn't going to make it.

Another great white, the biggest yet, was swimming toward him, it's jaw hyper-extending, teeth gleaming unnaturally in the darkness, ready to rip his body into bloody shreds.

_If you get eaten alive in a hallucination, do you die in real life, too?_

All he could see was the cavernous maw of the beast and all those teeth and he knew he was going to die.

Cool, smooth glass was pressed into his fingers and he reacted without thinking, pulling the vial to his nose and inhaling as fast as he could.

The shark dissolved and all of its teeth with it mere seconds before it began ripping into his flesh.

Jayden took another deep inhale and felt the powder coat the inside of his nose and the back of his throat and the feeling of RELIEF was so staggering, it was unearthly. The dark, abysmal water faded away and Jayden was left laying on the floor of his lonely hotel room in the most depressingly water-logged city that he'd ever had the misfortune to be stuck in and Jayden was so happy to be here, he wanted to cry.

_Except if I cry, it will only make this miserable place wetter._

Jayden laughed, unable to help himself. The great thing about his drugs was that they worked so fast… The pounding in his skull had already begun to recede. The pain was going away, and that alone would have left him higher than a kite, but the added high of the drugs… He was floating on clouds, pain free and care free and SAFE. It was nice.

"Norman?" Somewhere off in the distance, a voice was frantically calling his name, callously breaking his reverie.

_Oh, go away…_

"Norman, can you hear me?"

_What could you possibly want from me that's so fucking urgent, lady?_

"Norman, you're temperature is rising and you're heart is going a mile a minute. You need to slow down and relax, okay? I need you to stay with me, I need you to focus, Norman. Focus on me, can you do that?"

_If I wanted to, I don't see why I couldn't… but that seems like such a bother just now…._

"Norman!"

_Damned harpy…_

It took effort, monumental effort, but Jayden wrenched his gaze from the eternal fathoms that stretched before him and locked onto the doe brown eyes that stared down at him. She glowed like an angel… so beautiful… He thought she had a name, but it didn't seem terribly important.

"Norman, you need to focus for me, please. You said triptocaine helps you focus, I need you to focus on me, only me."

His words were slurred and echoing in his own ears. "Are you real?"

"Yes, honey, I'm real and I need you to stay with me. Stay with me, Norman."

_Not going anywhere, I don't think… It's sort of nice right where I'm at._

"NORMAN!"

He blinked his eyes open. He hadn't realized they had closed. "What?"

"You're temperature is sky rocketing and I need to cool you down, so don't be upset that I'm taking your pants off."

_Pants? What do pants have to do with anything?_

Then he was being lifted and moved and he wasn't sure how he knew, because the world didn't really matter so much to his brain which was perfectly happy floating contentedly in space. The fact registered somehow, somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Norman, I'm losing you again. Stay focused." The voice was strained. His bare feet were dragging against the floor, the rough sensation of the carpet soon replaced by the smooth tile floor of the bathroom.

_Focused… I'm focused._

A sudden painful blast of molten fire hit him and he screamed from the agony of it. The arms around him held him tighter and he struggled wildly to get away.

"Shh, shh, shh! It's okay, Norman! It's okay!"

A howling, moaning sound filled the air, like some sort of wounded animal, bellowing in anguish.

_Somebody should find that animal and put it out of its misery… Oh, wait… that's me…_

"It's okay, honey, I know it hurts, but I have to get your fever down. I know it hurts, but I'm here with you, I promise. I'm not going anywhere, Norman. I'm here."

It took a few more moments… moments or minutes, he couldn't be sure… for his senses to get their bearings. It seemed like hours and seconds at the same time. However long it took, he finally started putting things together. It wasn't lava that was raining over him, but cold, frigid water. He blinked and looked around, feeling strange now that he was attached to his body again… heavy, uncomfortable… strange… The cold water was coming from the shower head. He was sitting naked in the shower, leaning back against a soft body, held up by two thin arms wrapped protectively around him. He turned his face to see who was holding him, surprised to see an angel with short brown hair and beautiful dark eyes. She wasn't quite as naked as he was, still had her underwear on, but her skin was pleasantly warm against his cold numbed body. Her face was so familiar… so worried…

His vision blurred terribly for a moment and then cleared and suddenly the angel had a name and he could remember it. "Madison?"

"I'm here." Her voice was soft, as soft as the hand that stroked across his chest and just as comforting. "I need you to stay here with me, too, okay?"

"Okay." He nodded shakily. The freezing water was doing its work and he could feel the cold now, anchoring him to reality. "Are you real?"

Her face twisted, filled with an emotion he couldn't identify. "Yes, I'm real."

"Just checking." He turned his face up to the water, eyes closed. "Thanks for saving me from the sharks." He could hear his own voice shaking from the cold. He was so exhausted.

When his eyes began to close again, he heard her say, "Anytime. What sharks?"

His words were starting to slur. "Great big ones…" With that, he fell dead asleep.

* * *

Madison wasn't sure when she became aware that Norman had fallen asleep with his head nestled against her shoulder, but it was long, long after she herself had become greatly discomforted from the painfully cold shower. The only thing that kept it bearable was Norman. His fever had been causing him to radiate heat like an oven for the last half hour. It had taken a long time, but finally his body had begun to cool off. Unfortunately, that meant that she was more aware of how cold her own position was, sitting half naked in the shower with a man she was almost certain that she shouldn't like, a man who was in this position because he'd overdosed on drugs, something that she completely despised.

_But..._

The treacherous part of her mind was speaking, telling her things she didn't want to listen to.

_Is it really fair to blame him for that? If he hadn't taken the drugs, he would have died… No. That was his choice. It was a choice. He didn't have to take the shortcuts that he did. Without those shortcuts, he wouldn't have needed the drugs. But, the only reason he's doing this is to find Shaun Mars ALIVE. Maybe if he didn't care, he would be more than happy to flounder around like the police have been doing for the last three years. But he's not. He's trying to solve this BEFORE Shaun dies. He's trying to do in three days what the entire city police force haven't been able to do in three years. If he hadn't taken the drugs, he would have died. He's literally killing himself to save someone else's son. That has to count for something, right?_

Madison sighed in frustration. Going around in circles wasn't getting her anywhere. It felt like Norman's fever was down and he was certainly unconscious now, but at least he had seemed fairly lucid just before he'd passed out. It would be best to let him sleep for as long as he could. As much as she wanted, NEEDED to get back to the investigation, she was also painfully aware that it wouldn't be possible for some time. Aside from the fact that visiting hours at the geriatric clinic probably didn't extend to the early early morning hours, she couldn't just leave Norman alone in this state. Obviously, the young profiler had pushed himself well beyond his limits and was currently suffering for it. He seemed to be sleeping easily now, though, in spite of the freezing water.

_I wish I could sleep like that._

She felt the pulse point at his neck. His heartbeat was strong and steady, not the rapid thrumming that had terrified her to the core some thirty minutes ago.

She reached up and turned the tap off, relieved when the icy water stopped cascading down. She wiggled out from underneath Norman's dead weight and stood. There had to be a complimentary towel in the bathroom cabinets somewhere, one of those neatly pressed and folded generic white towels, one of those towels that didn't smell clean, but didn't smell dirty either. Somewhere.

_I'm in luck! There are TWO towels!_

She grabbed them both. She used one to dry herself down quickly, just enough so that she wasn't freezing, then used the other to dry Norman off more thoroughly.

_It would be just my luck to lower his fever, then have him die from hypothermia._

She took extra care to dry him off as gently as she could. Up close, she was even more impressed with how thoroughly his body was battered. Bruises everywhere, his stomach, his arms… He even had one large, particularly nasty black and green streak that started at the middle of his thigh and traveled up over his hip and along his side. She couldn't even begin to guess how he'd gotten that one.

_For being as lean as a starving dog, he certainly has some nice muscle tone…_

Madison bit her lip and concentrated on drying his hair. She wasn't going to think things like that. Not one bit. She found her fingers gently probing the large knot at the back of his skull.

_That would be from the baseball bat… And that cut in his shoulder needs taking care of, but I can at least get him out of the shower, first._

She pulled him up and dragged him out to the room. It was a struggle to get him up and into the bed, but he wasn't as heavy as Ethan had been.

_Of course, Ethan had been wearing clothes at the time…_

Madison felt herself blushing. She'd been doing so good up until now about not thinking about things like that. She hadn't even snuck a peak below his waist except to dry him off. It must have been the exhaustion catching up to her. She wasn't interested in him, not that way!

_So what if he's tall and well muscled… So what if he's got a sense of humor that he keeps hidden or that he's smart and has beautiful eyes that light up when he's amused… He's broken. He's a drug addict. He's an FBI agent. He has a life and it's far away from here and I'm just… plain not interested in him. That's that._

She turned away and hunted for his luggage. She was going to solve the problem one way or another. She found his suitcase and pulled out a clean pair of black boxer-briefs. While she was at it, she pulled out a pair of boxers for herself and a t-shirt to wear so she could hang her underwear up to dry. The t-shirt was soft, the type of soft that comes from washing it a thousand times or so and Madison found herself rubbing the material against her cheek, inhaling the scent that came with it.

_Stop it! Get a hold of yourself, girl, you're not interested in him! Trust me!_

Taking the clothes to the bed, she maneuvered Norman into the boxers then went to the bathroom to change out of her soaking bra and panties. While she was there, she searched around. Norman had said that there weren't any supplies up here, but she was sure she could find a first aid kit, or something.

Five minutes of searching had turned up nothing but a complimentary sewing kit for the business man with one suit who's lost a button before that important meeting. It wasn't as easy or as neat as butterfly sutures, but it would have to do. Especially since she knew for a fact that no, he wasn't going to go to the hospital to get it looked at by a professional, and yes, he was going to do everything in his power to get himself beat up and run through the wringer again tomorrow.

_IF he wakes up tomorrow…_

Madison closed her eyes and shook her head. There was nothing but bad thoughts and memories down that road and she was too tired to go there tonight. He WOULD wake up. He would wake up and tell her that he was fine and he wasn't going to the hospital and then he would do his neat little psychobabble trick and bring up something from her past that she knew nobody else in the world knew about her just to distract her and then they would be back to business as usual. Everything would be fine.

She dabbed the last of the vodka onto a towel and began cleaning the cut in his shoulder.

_How does a person get stabbed with a katana anyways?_

"You're a real trouble magnet, Galahad. Just thought I'd let you know."

He didn't answer of course. He was dead to the world.

_But not REALLY dead. Just asleep. He'll wake up in the morning. That's all there is to it._

Before she knew it, Madison had both sides of his shoulder sewed up neatly. Hopefully the alcohol would be enough to keep his cuts from becoming infected, at least as a temporary measure. She also re-cleaned the large gash in his forearm, the one he'd gotten when he was fighting with Dr. Death.

_When he was trying to save my life..._

With that done, she had nothing else to do it seemed. She placed a call down to room service to order something for breakfast in the morning. She would make sure he ate something at least before she left to follow up on Mrs. Sheppard.

There really was nothing to do. Nothing except watch him sleep.

_This is going to get real old, real fast._

Madison sighed and crawled into bed beside him. She placed her hand on his chest, concentrating on his heartbeat. It was strong and steady. It was a relief. She had been terrified that she was watching him die when he thrashed and screamed, terrified of things that only he could see. She had remembered what he had said about the other FBI agents who had lost their lives by using ARI, how fast it happened. She thought she was going to lose him and she didn't even know him yet, not as much as she wanted to. There was no denying it, she had been scared shitless of losing an obnoxiously cocky, smart-assed, self-assured, drug addicted FBI agent that she didn't even like. Now, laying here next to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her hand, she was relaxed. As long as she could feel his heartbeat, she knew he would wake up in the morning.

_Not like Rick…_

Madison counted heartbeats in her head until she fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Madison was peacefully asleep for the first time in a long time. There were no nightmares, no memories… just the darkness of heavy sleep. It was blissful.

A loud rapping sound registered in her mind moments before a sharp jostling startled her to wakefulness and she felt a surge of adrenalin flooding her nerve endings. Memories, terrible memories of men in fatigues and ski masks and helpless terror… She opened her eyes, throat tensing to scream…

There were no men in ski masks. She was in a hotel room, in bed with a man. He was sitting up straight, every muscle and line in his body as tense rigid as steel. He had a gun in his hand that was pointing steadily at the door. Memories of the night before came flooding back in a rush and Madison sighed with relief.

"Norman." She lifted a hand to pull his arm down. "Norman, it's okay. It's room service."

His voice was rusty sounding and confused. "Room service?"

"Wait here a second."

She eased herself out from under the blankets and slipped over to the door, grabbing her purse on the way. She opened it just a crack to see a young kid in a bellhop uniform with a rolling cart. She slipped a five dollar bill out the crack. "Leave it there, I'll get it in a second."

The kid shrugged and disappeared from her line of view. Madison shut the door and counted slowly to one hundred, then opened the door and pulled the cart inside, shutting the door quickly behind her.

Norman had lowered the gun and was staring at her, his eyes more than his face betraying his puzzlement.

Madison smiled. "I ordered you some food."

He used his free hand to rub his eyes with the heel of his hand. His voice was little more than a croak now, not much of an improvement yet. "You ordered me food?"

"You need to eat."

"How long was I out?"

"About eight hours. It's almost nine thirty in the morning."

"What's the rain fall at?"

"I don't know. We still have some time, but it's running out."

Norman groaned and struggled to get out of bed, nearly taking a nose dive, but catching himself on the nightstand. Madison rushed forward to help him. "Slow down there, Galahad. You're going to rip out your stitches if you aren't more careful."

"Stitches?" He looked down at his shoulder, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Well, whaddya know?" He spent a moment carefully stretching and flexing his arm, testing the pull. "Not bad, Nurse Paige, not bad at all." He was waking up slowly, the gears were starting to turn and shift into place for him. He had very expressive body language first thing in the morning and Madison could almost sense what he was thinking just by watching him.

First he looked at the rolling cart with the silver domed tray on it.  _He is either wondering what's on the menu or why I even ordered it in the first place._ Then he looked at her, his puzzled frown deepening.  _That's him wondering why I'm even here in his room this early in the morning._  Then his eyes widened and darted over to his suit case and back to her.  _Now he's noticed that I'm wearing his clothes._ Madison couldn't help but start to smile. He twisted his head to look at the bed, then closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.  _There we go. Now, he's asking himself the hundred dollar question._

Norman coughed and ran his free hand through his hair, a blush beginning to creep up his neck. "Er, Madison? Did, umm… Did something…? Did something happen last night that I should remember?"

Madison felt the beginnings of a giggle rising in her throat. "'Something'? Well, 'something' sounds pretty vague, Mr. Profiler. Could you be more specific?"

He cleared his throat and gave her a glare. "Could you be a little less coy and a bit more helpful?"

"I'm not being coy. A lot of things happened last night that you should probably remember. I'm just wondering which one you're inquiring about."

_This is too much fun._

He tapped the barrel of his gun against his thigh for a moment, fidgeting impatiently, before stuffing the gun back under his pillow. When he looked up, he was more composed. "I was asking if we'd slept together."

"Why? Afraid your virtue's been compromised, Galahad?"

Norman scoffed and shook his head. "Why do you call me that? You know I'm not perfect."

"Let's just say that Shaun's your Holy Grail and I know you're going to find him. That's why you're my Galahad."

"No pressure, right?" Norman groaned and dropped back onto the bed, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes.

"You alright?"

"No. Everything hurts. I feel like Wile E. Coyote after a ten hour Looney Tunes marathon. And I still haven't got the damned bird yet." Madison crawled into bed beside him and placed her arm across his stomach. He turned his head just slightly to look at her for a good five or six seconds before lowering his arm and pulling her closer. "We didn't sleep together, did we?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, we slept together. And it was marvelous and wonderful, everything I imagined it could be."

"Now, you're just teasing me."

"Am not. We DID sleep together. I can't remember the last time I slept that well without medication." She felt comfortably relaxed nestled under his arm. "You scared the shit out of me last night, you know?"

"If it makes you feel better, I was pretty scared myself."

Madison bit her lip, unsure of herself. "I was eleven when he died." She could feel Norman twisting his head down to look at her. "My brother. I have two others but they were much older. They were already off to college. Rick was babysitting me for the weekend because our parents were out of town. He had a party, lots of people came over and it got out of hand really quick. I stayed in my room all night. I remember I was pretending I was a princess and I'd been captured by goblins and if I just stayed in my tower, my knight in shining armor would return and order would be restored to the land. But he didn't show up that night. When I went downstairs in the morning… Even a princess needs her Coco Puffs, right? He was in the living room. The place was trashed and somebody had flipped the couch over. I could just see his arm at first, he was mostly underneath the couch. I don't know how long he was laying there, but he was… Well, there was nothing I could have done and I know that. I couldn't have done anything. What happened was a choice he made. He just made some bad choices…"

Norman squeezed her gently, silently reassuring her that he was there and listening.

"So there I was, eleven years old, it was Saturday morning and my parents weren't even coming back home until Monday. Didn't know where they were or how to reach them or how to reach anybody really. So, er… Well, I just waited for him to wake up. I didn't call 911, because I think I knew somehow that there wasn't anything they could have done for him, so I cleaned up the house and waited for Rick to wake up."

She had been doing so well, telling the story, but now she felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes. Norman's arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer into a protective hug. She felt safe in his embrace and could have stayed there all day. Her voice was thick with tears that she refused to let fall. "I guess what I'm saying, long story short, is don't you ever, EVER pull that shit on me again, Norman." It had only been last night that he'd said the same thing to her and she couldn't help but let out a half sobbing laugh. "Do you hear me?"

"Yeah, Maddy, I hear you." He held her tight and she rested her head against his chest, sniffling, but not crying. She was NOT crying.

"EVER." His hand was gently stroking through her hair, his other was rubbing circles on her back and she felt herself relaxing again, listening to his heartbeat, strong and steady.

His lips were pressed against her hair and his voice was soft. "I promise I will do everything in my power to not put you through that again."

"Okay." Madison sniffled again. They were quiet for long moments before Madison shifted slightly, trying to break herself out of the relaxing spell she'd fallen under. It was definitely time for a change of subject. "You have a cat back home in D.C., don't you?"

"I live in Virginia, but yes, I have a cat. How can you tell?"

"You cuddle well. Dog people sprawl in bed, but you curl up and cuddle. You're definitely a cat person."

"Maybe I'm just cold."

"What's her name?"

"His name is Kitty. He's a flame-tipped Himalayan. Cream and fluffy all over with ochre highlights and blue eyes. He's very pretty and he knows it."

"See? You aren't the only one that can do the Sherlock Holmes trick."

Norman nodded his head. "Well played, Watson."

Madison laughed. "I don't want to be Watson. You should be Watson."

"Watson was the doctor. Holmes was the drug addict. You're not going to win this one, Nurse Paige."

"Not even if I cheat?" Madison smiled and leaned up to kiss him on the chin.

Norman grinned. "Nope, not even if you cheat."

Madison kissed him on the cheek next. "Still not working?"

"Nope. Not backing down on this one." She wiggled out of his embrace and crawled up to kiss him on the forehead. She was straddling his midsection. Norman groaned. "Christ, lady! It's one argument! You can't let me win just one argument?"

Madison shook her head then kissed him softly, almost timidly on the lips. It was a nice kiss, almost chaste in fact, but Madison could swear she felt electricity spark between them. His eyes closed and he leaned back away from her, concentrating VERY hard from the look on his face. He was silent for so long that Madison started to fidget.

_What is he thinking now? Did I make a mistake? Did I move too fast? Say something! Please?_

When he did speak, his voice was a choked whisper. "If you're going to keep cheating like that, I need to go brush my teeth." He very gently lifted her off of him and rolled off the bed, albeit with far more success this time. He was in the bathroom faster than she could blink with the door shut behind him. A second later she could hear the sink taps running.

_Well, damn. Either I affected him but good, or he couldn't wait to get away from me. Which is it?_

She cleared her throat and began talking to the door. "The way I figure, we've got three leads to take care of today. I don't know how much you remember from last night, but we connected John Sheppard to the apartment on Marble Street. He died thirty years ago, right? So you were thinking that his brother might have been involved somehow. Well, I think our best bet of finding Scott Sheppard is to talk to his mother. Visiting hours at the hospital started at nine this morning."

The toilet flushed. The sink was still running.

"The other one was… John Kramer, I think you said?"

The door opened and Norman poked his head out. "Chawes." The word was muffled by the toothbrush stuffed in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth while he leaned against the door frame.

"Right. Charles Kramer, because he paid for John Sheppard's funeral. And the other one was Ethan. He's been following clues that the killer left for him. If you can get him out of jail, he might let you see more of his Origami pieces."

Norman nodded thoughtfully, scrubbing his teeth absentmindedly. "Hmm huh him…" He shook his head then returned to the bathroom. Madison could hear the water running again. He came back out wiping his face off with a towel. "I think getting Ethan away from Blake is going to be top priority for me. As much as I want to find out what Kramer knows, I'm not sure I can leave Ethan at Blake's mercy and still sleep at night. Anne Sheppard is our best bet for finding Scott Sheppard. Do you mind going there and seeing what you can get from her?"

Madison nodded. "I think you should take the old lady. She seems a little out of my league."

"No thanks, I don't want to get smacked in the head with a handbag. Handbags hurt. I'll take the bully, you take the grandma. I think I'm safer that way."

"Alright. Anything to protect my knight in shining armor."

"Tarnished. Tarnished armor."

"Breakfast first, though."

"Not hungry."

"I don't care. You're still going to eat."

"Really? What if I say no?"

"Then I guess I'll just have to insist. I haven't lost an argument yet."

"Oh yeah? I thought I was winning the Watson one."

"You forfeited when you retreated to safer ground. I won. I am undefeated."

"What if I cheat?" He stepped forward and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. Madison shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the sparkle she could see in his bright blue eyes.

"Cheating doesn't work for the gander, you silly goose. Especially not when it comes to matters of health and nutrition. You're going to eat, even if I have to tie you down and force feed you."

Norman dipped his head and kissed her full on the lips, his arms pulling her tight against his body. The kiss was slow and sweet, tender and gentle and minty and so wonderful that Madison sighed and closed her eyes, unaware that he was supporting her weight.

Before she could get her breath back he was kissing very gently along her neck. His breath was a hot silky whisper that teased the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Are you sure cheating doesn't work? Can't you let me win just one teensy, tiny little argument?"

Madison laughed. "Not one that concerns your health and welfare." She wriggled out of his embrace. "Come on, one bowl isn't going to kill you and it will make me feel better."

"Well, if it will make you feel better, I guess that means I'm obligated."

Madison grinned and pulled the silver dome off the cart. He gave her a look.

"Soup? You bought me SOUP for breakfast?"

"It's chicken noodle. It's good for you."

"Soup for breakfast?"

"Stop whining it's good."

"But it's breakfast time and that is soup and soup is not an acknowledged breakfast food."

"Don't give me that, you weren't even going to eat breakfast and it's better for you than coffee."

"NOTHING is better for you than coffee."

"Eat the soup."

"Fine! Nag, nag, nag… I'll eat your damned soup, lady! Christ!" He glared at her playfully before grabbing the bowl and taking it over to the desk. "Are you going to stand there and watch me eat, cause I'll tell you, it's a little uncomfortable."

"Nope. I'm going to eat my fruit."

"You get fruit? I like fruit! Why can't I have fruit?"

"Because everyone knows that chicken noodle soup cures everything and you almost died last night and it will make me feel better."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" He shook his head and obediently swallowed a spoonful. He grimaced. "This is disgusting. I think maybe it's supposed to be homemade chicken soup that cures everything. Hotel chicken noodle doesn't cut it."

Madison smiled and picked up a bowl full of cut melon pieces and began eating. The banter was nice. It made her feel normal and alive. She hadn't felt normal in such a long time.

Norman finished his soup in record time. "There. All done. Can I go now?"

"You might want to get dressed first."

"You and your silly details." He rolled his eyes and patted her shoulder as he passed her to get to the closet. Madison watched interestedly as he pulled out a black suit.

"That looks interesting."

"Yeah, well, it's the only one I got left that ISN'T covered in mud." He shrugged and ducked into the bathroom again.

Madison finished her fruit, trying to sort out her feelings. They were just as jumbled and confused as ever.

_Maybe I should just wait until this is over to figure out if I like him or not. But will that be too late? He's just going to fly back home to the other side of the country when this is over. He's nice to look at, he's fun to talk with… He's going to keep doing this to himself until it kills him. It's silly to think that he'll give up his drugs just because I asked him to. And he can't give up the drugs until he gives up ARI. Is that really going to happen? This is so stupid. You're being stupid, Madison._

The bathroom door opened and Norman emerged in the black suit with a black silk shirt underneath and a maroon tie. He was still adjusting the tie when he smiled at her, blue eyes flashing with amusement. "Nothing quite says 'intimidating' like dressing as an undertaker."

"You're going to try to intimidate Carter Blake? THE Carter Blake? That's funny."

"You're confidence in me is staggering."

Madison stood and crossed the room to him. She brushed her knuckles against the stubble he hadn't bothered shaving. "You look scruffy." Her thumb traced the scar on his cheek. She was going to say something else, something witty, truly… but the words caught in her throat when she saw the look in his eyes.

He kissed her tenderly on the forehead then brushed his fingers through her hair, smiling his secretive little smile. "We sure did get complicated, didn't we?"

"That's one word for it."

"If we had more time…"

"You would take advantage of the fact that you have a willing, half naked woman in your hotel room?"

"Something like that."

"Sounds like a date. Don't stand me up."

"Madison…"

"Shaun first. We'll find Shaun first and then see where this goes, right?"

"Yeah." He brushed her bangs back with his fingertips. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"Good." She readjusted his tie for him. "Go get 'em, Galahad."

He kissed her softly on the lips. His blue eyes were serious, now. "Stay safe, alright?"

Madison couldn't help but smile. "I'm going to a geriatric hospital, remember? How dangerous could it be?"

Norman looked at her for another moment then nodded, agreeing with her logic. Then he smiled. "Don't trash my room while I'm gone."

She punched him lightly on his uninjured shoulder. "Don't tempt me."

He walked back to the desk to grab his wallet and Madison couldn't help but notice that he leaned down to pick up his glasses and the tube of triptocaine off the floor where they were discarded last night. He slipped them both into a pocket. Madison felt her stomach turn.

He looked at her as if nothing at all was wrong. "Call me if you find anything."

"Yeah. No problem."

He closed the door behind him and Madison put her face in her hands, growling in frustration.

_This is so STUPID! Why are you doing this to yourself?_

Having no answer, she shook her head at her own folly, then began to get dressed.


	9. Chapter 9

Jayden walked into the precinct, his steps deliberate and his expression grim. Anyone looking could see he had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. He didn't stop until he reached Blake's desk, glaring down at him with all the disdain he could muster. He spoke in cold clipped tones. "I want to speak to Mars."

Blake looked up from his typing and smiled as he stood. "Well, well, well! The prodigal agent returns! Where the hell have you been,  _Norman_? You missed all the excitement!"

Jayden crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I've been having my own bit of excitement, thanks."

"What? No congratulations?"

"For what?"

Blake smirked as if it should have been obvious. "I caught the Origami Killer! And I did it without your fancy FBI degree."

Jayden shook his head. "So, you still think Ethan Mars is the Origami Killer? Has he given a confession?"

"Not yet, but it's a done deal. Case closed."

"That remains to be seen. Have you charged him with anything yet?"

"What? And give that asshole a chance to lawyer up before we have our case together? Of course not!" Blake seemed affronted by the idea.

Jayden rolled his eyes. "Where is he? I want to talk to him."

"The interrogation room. But you're not going to have much luck."

Jayden ignored Blake and strode quickly down the hallway to the room. He opened the door and stopped short. Ethan was laying unconscious on the floor with his arm lifted at an awkward angle attached to the table with handcuffs. A uniformed officer stood watch and Jayden turned on him. "What the HELL is going on here?"

"I'm keeping an eye on the suspect while Lieutenant Blake is out."

"He's unconscious for fuck's sake!"

"I'm just following orders, sir."

Jayden threw up his hands, angrier than he could remember being in a long time, and stormed out of the room. Blake was leaning against his desk, waiting for Jayden to come back. Jayden closed the distance between them quickly with his long strides, barely containing the fury he felt for the older man.

"Blake, you unbalanced piece of shit, what the hell have you done to him?!"

"Got a problem, Norman?" Blake took a step forward, invading Jayden's space.

"Mars is not the Origami Killer! You're beating a confession out of the wrong man!"

"Why won't you accept the facts, Jayden? He has no alibi for ANY of the murders. His wife thinks he did it. Hell, even his own shrink thinks he did it!"

"Any confession you get out of him is WORTHLESS! They might not teach you this in meter maid school, Blake, but if you beat the shit out of somebody long enough, they'll confess to Kennedy's assassination if you ask them to. Even if he was the killer, which he's not, the jury would take one look at your so called evidence given under duress and threat of torture and laugh your case out of court. Did you even advise him of his right to have an attorney present? You didn't did you?"

"Scum like that HAVE no rights! He sacrificed his rights when he killed that first little boy! Or have you forgotten about the eight families that creep has destroyed? So what if he gets a few little bruises? He killed those kids!"

"What the fuck happened to 'innocent until fucking proven guilty', Blake? Ever read the Constitution or did you drop out school before they got to that part?"

Blake grabbed Jayden by the shirt. "Listen to me, you little shit—"

"What's going on here?"

Jayden pulled his gaze away from Blake to see Captain Perry coming out of his office.

_About time the fucking ponce pulls his head out of his ass and takes an interest in things._

He jerked himself out of Blake's grip. "Your detective has just finished assaulting a suspect in police custody. I suggest you get him under control before—"

"Before what, Agent Jayden? In my experience, Lieutenant Blake's methods have worked very well and gotten results. That is, after all, what we want here, isn't it? Results?"

Jayden balked.

_I can't believe what I'm hearing._

"At the expense of justice? Of truth? What the hell kind of dog and pony show are you running here, Captain?"

"I don't much appreciate your tone, Agent Jayden."

"Captain Perry, may I remind you that you were the one who requested federal assistance in this case? Your hostile attitude and the insubordination and ineptitude of your subordinates are greatly hindering this investigation."

"Well, I'm sorry you see things that way. Perhaps it's fortunate for all involved that we no longer need your services, Agent Jayden."

Jayden took a step forward, tilting his head sideways as if he hadn't heard correctly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Didn't Lieutenant Blake inform you? We caught the Origami Killer. The case is closed and you're free to go."

"This is horse shit! Mars is not the goddamned killer! This is fucking surreal!"

"This case has been hard on you, Jayden. Perhaps you should take some time off?"

_This is straight out of the Twilight Zone!_

"I have proof! Mars isn't the killer."

Blake growled, "He's a lying sack of shit, Captain!"

Perry held up a hand to calm Blake.

"What sort of proof?"

"If you gentlemen will follow me to the briefing room?"

Jayden didn't wait to see if they were following him. His hands were shaking he was so angry. He pulled ARI out of his pocket and placed it on top of the overhead projector, then hooked it up like he had during his initial briefing on the Origami Killer.

_Hell, was it only three days ago?_

Perry and Blake were in the room watching him and he couldn't get his hands to stop shaking.

_Dammit! Stop trembling! You had plenty of drugs last night and you don't need them yet so stop fucking shaking, already! Just because some asshole pisses you off, you can't lose your cool. Get yourself under control, for fuck's sake.  
_

He turned ARI on and watched the interface flicker to life on the projection screen. His fingers twitched in an urgent desire to just pick up the glasses and do things the easy way. It would have been faster to find the video he was looking for if he had slipped them on for a moment or two… but he couldn't help being a little fearful of the consequences of even those few seconds. He wanted to give himself a little bit of time to recover before he delved back into ARI again.

He used a hand held remote to scroll through the file menus.

_It's so slow doing things this way… Slow, but safer. Just for now. Everything in moderation. Besides, I'll need to use ARI to find Shaun once I have all the puzzle pieces I need. If I use it now for something simple, I might not be able to later._

Finally he found the file he was looking for. ARI had been in record mode when the killer had nearly eviscerated him in Paco Mendes' office. He highlighted the video and pressed play.

"Gentlemen, THIS is the Origami Killer. As you can see, he is taller than me, six foot five, maybe six foot six. Close to three hundred pounds I'd imagine. Air samples taken after…"

Jayden couldn't help but wince as he saw how close that katana had come to dismembering him completely. He'd been lucky to get away with just the one stab wound. And there it was, preserved on screen.

_Sir Norman gets run through by the Black Knight. What a charming bed time story._ Jayden flexed his arm uncomfortably.  _That actually looks a lot more painful then it felt at the time… Thank goodness for sharp swords, I guess._

" Air samples taken after the killer fled the scene are a positive match to the orchid pollen in the air at the scene where Jeremy Bowles' body was found." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the looks that Perry and Blake were giving him. "As you can see, this recording took place at twenty three hundred last night. At that time, Ethan Mars was already in your custody."

Blake wasn't too impressed. "Fled the scene? You mean you let another suspect get away,  _Norman_?"

"As I recall, of the three suspects we've chased on foot, I'm the only one who's managed to catch one. Remember Korda? Oh, that's right. You were busy drinking coffee at the time, remember? And I'll have to apologize for not apprehending the killer last night. Being impaled makes things like that kinda difficult."

"This is such bullshit! That film was obviously manufactured!"

Jayden flexed his fist, aggravated beyond belief. "You think it's fake? I've got the stitches to prove it wasn't, but if you want me to strip for you, Carter, you're gonna have to buy me dinner first."

Blake's face was a storm cloud of anger. "Why would I buy dinner for a twenty dollar whore,  _Norman_?"

"Tell me something, Carter, did your father stop at just beating the shit out of you every night or did he fuck you up the ass when your mom was too drunk to give a flying—"

"FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

Jayden dodged out of the way as Blake lunged for him. He came at Jayden like an enraged bull, throwing desks and chairs out his way. Jayden had to move quickly to stay out of his path and he was so stiff and sore already that it was a near thing. Blake came very close to grabbing him by the neck and snapping it like a twig, but Jayden somehow managed to avoid his grasp.

Perry's voice barely broke above the noise of clattering chairs. "BLAKE! Get a hold of yourself!"

_Perry's got some guts. He's practically taking his life in his hands standing in Blake's way like that._

Blake stopped at Perry's instance, but he certainly didn't look pleased about it. His face was almost the same shade of purple as his shirt. Jayden stood up from behind the desk he had last used for cover and straightened his neat black suit coat.

Perry was speaking quietly to Blake, trying to calm him. He turned back to Jayden. "Well, Jayden? How do we know that you didn't stage that video?"

_Oh, for fuck's sake…_

"You don't. But I guess when the Killer takes another victim and the entire press corps is looking at you to explain why you ignored key evidence and persecuted an innocent man while the real killer was out stalking another child, well… that'll be your problem, then, won't it?"

That struck a chord with Perry. He readjusted his tie, obviously uncomfortable with the notion.

Blake actually sounded hurt, "You're not listening to this, Captain!"

"Quiet, Blake. I need to think."

Blake threw up his hands and stalked back and forth, a caged tiger waiting to kill. His eyes were filled with murderous intent as he glared at Jayden.

_Just do it, Blake. Go for that gun, watch me grab mine first._

"Okay, Norman." He grinned. Jayden suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Blake lifted his hands in defeat. "You got me. You've got proof. Well, that's just fine. Here's what I think of your FUCKING proof!" Before Jayden had a chance to react, Blake had lifted a chair and slammed it down on ARI with all his strength and shattered the glasses and the projector beneath them with the force of the impact.

The color drained from Jayden's face and he looked at the shattered pieces of plastic and circuitry with shocked horror.

_That didn't just happen… that couldn't have just happened!_

He felt himself sink to his knees, arms wrapping around his midsection as if he'd just been kicked in the gut. He was cold and shaking and he couldn't seem to catch his breath. He didn't know whether to cry or scream. The horrible dread of knowing that something had gone terribly wrong and he couldn't fix it… there was NOTHING he could do to fix it… had settled like ice in his stomach. He couldn't stop himself. He was in a daze as he crawled forward and carefully picked up the broken pieces of black plastic.

_All my files, all my evidence… Any HOPE of finding Shaun Mars…_

Jayden wanted to be sick. His voice was shaking quietly, "You fucking dickhead."

Blake laughed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Norman. Did I break your glasses?"

Rage boiled up inside Jayden, filling him with a violent urge to rend and tear and destroy and he rose from the floor and lunged. "Fucking BASTARD!" His fist connected solidly with Blake's face even as something hard impacted with his already bruised stomach. The pain was there, but he ignored it. What was a few more aches and pains to the fury that drove him now?

Blind rage had Jayden attacking Blake with reckless abandon and Blake was fighting back, giving as good as he got. Soon, they were both on the floor, punching and kicking and rolling under the desks, heedless of the ones that fell on top of them. It wasn't until strong hands grabbed Jayden and hauled him upwards that the red mist began to clear from his vision.

Two uniformed cops were holding Blake back and Jayden couldn't begin to guess how many held him. It had to have been more than three.

_The fucking bastard's LAUGHING at me!_

He jerked against the men that held him, dragging them a few feet forward before they stopped him.

Blake laughed again. His face was bleeding in more than a few spots and Jayden had broken his nose, but he was grinning like a mad man. "I'm sorry I broke your toy, Norman!" He smiled as he wiped blood from his lip. He straightened and the men holding him let him go when he didn't seem in immediate danger of flying back into battle.

The hands that held Jayden were still as tight as vices.

_They have to let go sometime and the moment they do..._

Jayden had to consciously loosen his jaw, he'd had it clamped down so tight. His words dripped venom and hate for the man in front of him. "Denying a man his civil rights, obstruction of justice, destruction of physical evidence and destruction of government property. How about conspiracy to aid and abet? I think I could get that to stick."

"Fuck you, Norman! How about assaulting a police officer?"

"You think assaulting a federal agent isn't just as impressive?"

"That was self defense, fuck weed!"

Perry's voice was loud in Jayden's ringing ears. He'd forgotten the man was even in the room. "Boys! Calm yourselves the fuck down or I'm letting you BOTH spend the night in lock up!"

_Better listen to what he says. Shaun isn't going to stand a chance if I get myself thrown in jail right next to his dad. But without ARI, what the hell can I do for him, now? Oh, fuck…_

His pulse was still pounding against his temples, but he tried to calm himself, or at the least to pull his composure together enough that he seemed calm. His hands were shaking and now that the rage was leaving him, he felt cold all over. The headache made him feel nauseous. Or was that sick feeling caused by the sudden loss of the only thing that could have saved Shaun Mars?

_Fuck, fuck, fuck… Triple bloody fucking shit, fuck!_

Jayden closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out, standing up straight. The men let him go. He ran his hands through his hair, taking his time to compose himself. He took another deep breath. Counted to ten. Let it out.

_There's one last card I can play. It probably won't work, but I've gotta try. Please, God, let this work or that poor kid is dead._

His voice sounded deceptively calm, even to his own ears. "I'm taking Ethan Mars with me."

Blake started forward, but Perry stopped him. He looked at Jayden. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Agent Jayden."

"I'm afraid you can't stop me, Captain Perry. I'm putting Mars into protective custody under the Witness Protection Program. He's coming with me, sir." Jayden pulled a piece of paper out of the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to Perry. "This is a signed order from a federal judge authorizing me to take custody of Ethan Mars."

Blake was furious. "Captain, are you seriously going to let this piece of dog shit walk out of here with our suspect?"

Perry gave Blake a look to silence him, then returned his disappointed glare to Jayden. "I'll be speaking to your superiors about this, Jayden. When I requested the FBI's assistance, I was told that there wouldn't be any jurisdiction stand offs, that you would be willing to work under my authority. This is a clear breach of that agreement."

"Things change, sir. If you have a problem with my methodology or the way I choose to run this investigation in light of new developments, then here's a number for you." Jayden held out a business card. "Ask for Supervisory Special Agent Dillon Savich. I'm sure you two will have a lovely chat about my career. Now, if you'll excuse me?"

Jayden turned and left the room, edging through the crowd of officers that had gathered at the door to watch the fireworks.

_Just play it cool, Norman, you got this. They're all too dumbfounded to react, just get out of here before they snap out of it._

He walked quickly down the hallway and pushed open the door to the interrogation room. He pointed at the officer standing in the corner, exerting his authority with the simple gesture. "Un-cuff him."

"But, sir, Lieutenant Blake—"

"NOW, Officer!"

The officer hurried to obey. Jayden crouched next to Ethan. He was blinking slowly, just waking up it seemed.

_Good timing. At least ONE thing's going right._

"Ethan, my name is Norman, I'm taking you out of here, okay? Can you stand?"

Ethan looked at him, scared and confused. He nodded slowly, apparently not sure if he'd heard right. Jayden helped him to his feet and half-supported, half-pulled him out the door. Ethan tried to freeze when he saw the cops looking at them, but Jayden pushed him forward, whispering barely audible instructions, "Don't stop, don't make eye contact, don't say a word, and for fuck's sake don't slow down."

Jayden hurried him past Perry, who still looked upset but for the most part ineffectual, and Blake, who still looked like he was going to show up on Jayden's doorstep with an axe and a Jack Nicholson grin one dark and stormy night in the very near future.

He stopped at the custodian counter. He kept his words short and his eyes hard, silently demanding to be obeyed. "Ethan Mars' personal effects, please."

The custodian behind the counter looked at Captain Perry for some sort of signal.

_Don't look at him. Look at me. Do as I say. That's a girl._

She swallowed and pulled a bin and a ledger out from under the counter. It held a cell phone, car keys, wallet, and piece of paper folded up like a rat. "Sign here, please, sir."

Ethan stuffed the items into his coat pockets and signed the receipt.

_So far, so good._

Jayden grabbed Ethan's elbow and pulled him along. It seemed to take them ages to get to the door of the garage and Jayden resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief as it closed behind him.

Not letting up on the pace, he ushered Ethan all the way to his replacement rental car. Ethan was still in a daze, still trying to pull his seat belt on when Jayden had the car in gear and exiting the garage as fast as propriety would allow.

It wasn't until they were on the highway heading somewhere, ANYWHERE, with no flashing lights in the rear view mirror that Jayden felt himself begin to relax.

He hadn't realized how silent the car was until he looked over to see Ethan watching him with a peculiar sort of intensity. Jayden cleared his throat, letting out an embarrassed laugh. "Well, that was something, wasn't it?"

Ethan was silent.

"You probably don't remember me. We met a few days ago. My name's Norman Jayden. I'm an FBI profiler."

Ethan turned away, more interested in the rain trailing down the window than in conversation it seemed.

Jayden tried again. "The police think you kidnapped your son. You want to talk to me about it?"

Still nothing aside from the rhythmic squelching of the windshield wipers. Jayden sighed and took the next exit off the highway. He found a parking lot to pull into and stopped the car. Silence filled the confined space when he cut of the engine, silence punctured only by the rain drops tap, tap, tapping on the roof. If he had to sit here in silence any longer, he would start thinking about ARI and he just couldn't bear to do that right now. It was bad enough that he was beginning to hurt all over and especially in his shoulder. He wouldn't be surprised if he had ripped out the stitches that Madison had set last night. That was NOTHING compared to losing ARI...

Jayden shook his head in frustration. "Ethan, are you gonna talk to me anytime soon or are we just going to sit here for a while? I want to help you, I want to find Shaun just as much as you do, but I need you to start talking to me. The longer I sit here with you, the less of a chance we have of finding him."

"I'm sorry Agent Jayden…"

_Well, what do you know? He speaks!_

Ethan wouldn't meet his eyes as he talked. "I don't think you can help me. I appreciate what you did, but… But you shouldn't be here with me."

"Why not? Someplace else I should be?"

"I… I kidnapped my son."

_Well, that's certainly not what I expected to hear. Now, is he talking literally or is he just blaming himself for not keeping a better eye on him?_

Jayden examined Ethan Mars closely. His posture was wrong. Miserable and without hope… Defeated. Not the body language of a serial killer. Not any that he'd ever met anyhow. Chances were high that he was just blaming himself for allowing it to happen.

_His word choice is a little at odds with his behavior. He didn't say, 'It's my fault.' He said, 'I did it.' Curious._

"If you kidnapped him, then you know where he is?"

"I don't… I don't remember."

"You don't remember. Okay. Let me get this straight. So, you THINK you kidnapped your son, but you don't remember where he is? Is that right?"

"I know it sounds crazy. I've been going over this and over this in my head. It's the only thing that fits. The police believe it. I have to believe it, too. I'm the Origami Killer."

_Yeah, you may believe it, but I don't. I don't fucking believe any of this shit… Belief stopped a good thirty or forty minutes ago._

Jayden rubbed his eyes then pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. Or was it the same one from earlier? Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel the pain from his torn and bloody knuckles and he was almost willing to bet his face looked just as bad as Blake's had. He wanted to lay down in a dark room, wanted to give in to the sickness and the misery. He wanted to mourn for his lost reality and cry and scream and take drugs until he forgot how horribly he'd fucked this whole thing up. But he couldn't. Not yet.

"Do you know what an FBI profiler does, Ethan? We study serial killers. All day, every day, that's what we do. We study them to learn how they think, how they react, why they do what they do. I've been studying serial killers since I was ten years old. Most kids want to grow up and be fire fighters or astronauts or dinosaur hunters. I didn't. I wanted to catch the man who murdered my father. I've been doing this an awfully long time, Ethan. I have been studying serial killers all my life and I am telling you that I can almost guaran-damned-tee you that you aren't a killer."

"How do you know?" The question was a timid one, almost whistful, and Ethan's eyes never left the passenger side window.

"You want the short answer or the dissertation?" Ethan made no reply, so Jayden shrugged and continued. "There's a few things that we look for when we're looking at serial killers, what we call childhood markers. Fire starting is one, torturing small animals, bed wetting into the early teens, history of child abuse, broken home. Antisocial behavior. You don't have a history of any of these. Granted, these are just indicators and statistics, but sixty percent of the time, they work every time."

Ethan didn't seem to catch the joke. He was looking at Jayden, wanting answers. "What about people who don't start as killers? What about people who are perfectly normal all their lives and then suddenly… suddenly there's another person in their head controlling them?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… Slow down a second. You think you have multiple personalities?"

"I don't know."

Jayden took a breath. "Can you at least tell me why?"

"Why I have them…?"

"No. Why you THINK you have them."

Ethan turned to stare out the window again. "I… I have these black outs…"

"Black outs."

"Yes, black outs. And when I wake up, I'm in a completely different part of the city and I don't know what time it is… I had a black out the day that Shaun disappeared. I was standing by the carousel, watching him… And then when I woke up, I was standing in the middle of the street a mile or two away and it was dark outside. I don't know how I got there or what I was doing… But… but when I ran back to the park, Shaun was gone. I ran back home as fast as I could, but he wasn't there either. That's when I called the police."

"You lied in your statement. You told us that you didn't call the police right away because—"

"Yes! I know what I told the police! It's just… If I had told the truth… Shaun means everything to me. I have to find a way to save him, even if I was the one who put him in danger! If I had told the truth, I would have been locked up, don't you understand? If I told the police that I'm a schizophrenic lunatic who has these visions of dead bodies floating in water they would have locked me up and thrown away the key! Then what chance would I have had at finding Shaun?"

"Calm down, Ethan, it's alright. I'm not accusing you of anything."

Ethan shook his head. "I'll get help when this is over, I'll commit myself to any institution you'd like, but I have to find Shaun first!"

"You don't seem crazy enough to need institutionalizing. I could be wrong, but I don't think I am."

"Didn't you hear what I said? I kidnapped my own son!"

"You said you don't remember what happened between four and nine pm because you were in the middle of a black out." Jayden raised his eyebrows when Ethan began to interrupt. "What? Is that not an accurate statement? You don't remember what happened, that doesn't automatically make you guilty of eight counts of murder, Ethan."

"I had an origami figure in my hand. I don't even know how to make origami. Isn't that proof enough?"

Jayden crossed his arms on the steering wheel and rested his forehead against them. It was getting uncomfortably stuffy in the car and he was almost tempted to turn it on just to start the air conditioner.

_Strange, since it's only about fifty degrees outside._

"Not to be playing devil's advocate, but you could have simply seen it and picked it up. Or you could have subconsciously made a connection between the victims of the Origami Killer and your own son who you lost two years ago and developed an obsessive compulsion that you consciously aren't aware of. The mind is a powerful, complicated system that doesn't follow rules and can't be predicted."

"Or maybe it's my other self leaving me a message."

"You still think you have another personality? Great. Okay. I'll tell you what I know about multiple personalities, Ethan. They're rare. Not just rare, but extremely rare. They are sensationalized in movies and crime fiction because it's an interesting psychological subject with lots of dramatic ramifications, but in real life, you just aren't going to see it too much. The clinical term is dissociative identity disorder. Usually… not all the time, but usually in cases of DID, the psyche fractures as a result of extremely traumatic circumstances in an effort to protect itself from further psychological damage. In essence, it's a defense mechanism. You'll usually see one dominant alternate taking over the role of protector, defending the weaker, more defenseless primary. Again, actual, bona-fide cases of DID are pretty damned uncommon."

"Uncommon, but not impossible... I think… You see, I think my other self is testing me, testing my love for Shaun. If I can prove to my other self that I really love him, then maybe I can get him back…"

"If… and that's a BIG if… you did have an alternate, why would they do that you? He or she would probably do whatever they could to see that you DIDN'T get hurt. Unless your other self is one hell of a whack job but that sort of thing usually has very, VERY strong ties to childhood trauma and typically doesn't present this late in life. So, unless you were sexually molested repeatedly and locked in closets for weeks at a time when you were five, or maybe even kidnapped and tortured a little bit… Look, I'm just saying that I have doubts, STRONG doubts about your theory. What you're probably experiencing is something more like a fugue state that's triggered by the killings you see on TV because it reminds you of the loss of your son, Jason, and your mind shuts down to prevent you from the trauma of reliving the incident, or maybe even to relieve the anxiety of losing your other son in a similar fashion. Not that it helped much in the latter case. I haven't talked to you long enough to form a concrete opinion, but if I had to hazard a guess, that's what I would say."

"So, what are you? Some sort of psychiatrist?"

"No. Not a psychiatrist. I am, however, a card carrying criminal psychologist."

"What's the difference?"

"Psychologists give you expensive advice. Psychiatrists give you expensive drugs." Ethan turned to stare out the window again. Jayden was about to give up on the jokes. Every single one of them had fallen flat so far. He cleared his throat. "I'm serious though, Ethan. You're not the killer."

"I wish I could be sure."

"These black outs of yours. They started happening after your son died, right? Two years ago?"

"That's right."

"You don't remember them happening ever before in your life? Not once?"

"No. Never."

"Well, then you're alright. Like I said." Ethan frowned, not quite following. "The first victim was killed three years ago. If you'd had black outs three years ago, I'd be worried. Besides, like I was telling Blake and company, the real killer tried to fillet me last night while you were locked up, so there you have it. Can't be in two places at once, therefore you are obviously not him, right?"

Ethan stared at the Jayden for a few moments before scoffing and shaking his head. "Madison was right about you." Jayden raised an eyebrow. "She said you liked to show off."

"I wouldn't call that showing off. It doesn't do you any good if I'm the only one who thinks you're innocent. You have to believe it, too."

"You couldn't have just said that you ran into the guy and he wasn't me?"

Jayden shrugged. "I could have, but I'm charging for this conversation and I wanted to give you your money's worth." Ethan smiled. He actually smiled. Jayden felt accomplished. He shifted a little in his seat and cleared his throat. "So, Madison talks about me?"

Ethan nodded. "She said she hated you."

"Oh."  _I guess that serves me right for asking._  Jayden rubbed his eyes.  _I honestly don't know what sounds better right now… vodka, tripto, or some fucking coffee._

"But I think it was in a good way." Evidently, Ethan had seen Jayden's hang-dog expression.

Jayden gave him a quizzical look. "There's a good way to hate somebody?"

Ethan shrugged. "I guess so."

"Right…"

They were silent for some time, listening to the rainfall on the roof of the car. Ethan was the first to speak. "How are we going to find Shaun?"

Jayden glanced at him sideways. "I was hoping that you could tell me."

"I thought you said you knew who the killer was."

"No… No, I didn't say that. I said he tried to fillet me. With a katana. I never actually saw his face. Maybe I could have put something together, but everything I had that could have pointed me where to go… Fuck!" Jayden slammed his palms against the steering wheel. He flexed his jaw, trying not to grind his teeth. "I'm sorry, Ethan. Blake destroyed all of my evidence, all the data I had. I could have found him, but the goddamned son of a bitch... Fuck. This day has not been progressing the way that I had planned. I've got nothing."

_Nothing except a killer headache and a one way ticket to a federal prison if we don't find Shaun in time._

Jayden groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel, frustration making his temples pound. "Come on, Ethan. Please tell me I didn't just flush my life down the drain to break you out of jail and you don't have any clue where to go." Ethan looked at him and Jayden rubbed the back of his neck and sat up straight, stretching the stiff muscles, hoping to ease the tension that was making his head hurt so bad. Ethan was still waiting for clarification. "Alright, I'll admit it. I lied to the police, too. I said I was taking you into the Witness Protection Program, but you sort of need a judge to authorize that kind of thing. "

"I don't understand. Wouldn't they have wanted to see paperwork? Like a court order or something? They just let me go?"

"I did give them some paperwork. I'm hoping by the time they figure out it's a forgery, we'll have found Shaun alive and safe and we can sweep this whole sordid nonsense under the rug."

"You broke the law?"

Jayden's temper flared. "Pot calling the kettle black, aren't we? Or was that whole 'evading arrest' just bad timing and a horrible misunderstanding?"

Ethan looked down at his hands where he had them clasped in his lap. "I'm just amazed that you would do that to help me."

Jayden felt like shit. "Look, it's not that big of a deal. So, yes, TECHNICALLY, I helped a fugitive to escape, but technically they didn't charge you with anything, either. If they had charged you, they would have been required to have an attorney for you. Hell, they were required to have an attorney for you anyway… There's just a lot of grey area that we're kind of swimming around in right now, but if it was black and white, then yeah, I did a very bad thing and could lose my job. Or go to prison. But that's not going to happen because we're going to get that murdering son of a bitch first." Jayden took a breath. "Madison said you had some origami figures that might help."

Ethan nodded. "I have one more trial to do. Then I'll know where Shaun is."

Jayden nodded. "Okay. At least that's something… Where to?"

He started the car and put it in gear, pulling out of the parking lot as Ethan unfolded the paper rat and read off the address.


	10. Chapter 10

The red hallway was eerily quiet as Ethan Mars and Norman Jayden walked towards the bright white room at the end. Ethan couldn't remember any time in his life that he had felt so weary and hurt so much. But he had to keep going.

_For Shaun._

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. He looked at the man who walked with him. Jayden was still a puzzle to him.

The dark sunglasses he wore only marginally covered up some of the bruises on his face. Ten minutes into the drive to find this place, Jayden had abruptly pulled over at a convenience store and walked out five minutes later with the sunglasses, four different brands of over the counter pain medication, two bottles of Gatorade and some unappetizing, stale looking sandwiches.

"I have it on good authority," he'd said when he got back into the car, "that eating is important. And if I have to do it, you have to do it. Here you go. You can thank Madison when we see her again."

"And the sunglasses?"

"Security blanket."

Ethan hadn't pressed him on the subject. He was grateful that the enigmatic FBI agent who had calmly rescued him from a building full of police officers… police officers who wanted nothing more than to see him hang… had also been thoughtful enough to stop and get him pain pills. It had been a surprise that the young man had needed them just as badly as he. The maximum dose from every bottle had created a small colorful pile in his shaking hand and he'd swallowed them all down with a Gatorade chaser. Ethan had copied him moments later.

Now, walking down the hallway, watching the younger man carefully, Ethan could make out the tell tale signs of prolonged and unrelenting agony. The stiff movement, the carefully controlled breathing. They were two peas in a pod as far as that seemed to go. Jayden couldn't seem to move his left arm when he'd gotten out of the car and had held his gun awkwardly in one hand when he entered the building. He'd put it away after he made sure the hallway was clear, but not before Ethan had seen Jayden's hand shaking with pain or fatigue or even both. Which made him all the more puzzling.

_Why is he here? Why is he doing this? What could he possibly have to gain by helping me? Especially when that help comes at the price of his career._

It wasn't the first time Ethan had asked himself these questions.

Jayden turned his head slightly. "Got something you want to say?"

Ethan started and shook his head. "No... No, not at all. I'm just trying to figure things out."

"Could you do it with a little less staring?"

"Sorry."

That was another thing Ethan had noticed about Jayden. When they had first spoken in the car, he had seemed friendly and amiable. Over the last half hour he had gotten progressively more short tempered.

_I guess the thought of losing his job must be hitting him harder than he let on. Maybe that's why he's so angry._

All thoughts of such things left in a rush as they entered the white room at the end of the hall. There were camera's set up and a few television screens. Ethan could see himself being filmed as he walked up to the single ornate table in the middle of the room.

_One last trial… For Shaun's sake._

His hand was trembling as he reached forward and pressed the play button on the device left on the table. The emotionless female voice began to speak.

"The last trial. The last question. Are you prepared to give your life to save your son's? There is a deadly poison in this phial. It will kill you in exactly sixty minutes. If you drink it, you will get the last letters of the address. You will have enough time to save your son and say goodbye to him, but then you will die. You can drink the phial or decide to leave. The choice is yours."

Blood roared in Ethan's ears and he couldn't recall the exact words after they were done, but the horror of them filled him to his core.

_Kill myself to save Shaun? Can I even do that?_

Almost as if in a dream, he reached out and picked up the glass bottle. He couldn't help but feel that he held his son's life in his hands.

_Can I do it? Can I do it to save my son?_

His reverie was broken by Jayden's incredulous voice, sharp tongued and cynical. "You aren't seriously considering drinking that shit, are you?"

Ethan's fingers tightened around the vial, his resolve strengthening like granite, as he turned to face his unwelcome companion. Jayden was sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, leaning forward so his elbows were propped on his knees. Ethan swallowed. "I have to do this to save my son."

"You're going to kill yourself to save Shaun? Have you stopped to consider how fucked up that is?"

Now it was Ethan's turn to be sharp-tongued and short-tempered. "I don't recall asking your opinion, Agent Jayden."

"I don't recall giving you permission to be fucking stupid, either." Any trace of emotion was hidden behind the dark sunglasses and the deadpan tone of his voice betrayed nothing either.

Ethan paced forward and back, phial held carefully in his hand. "What do you want me to do? Just let him die?" Jayden was beginning to frustrate him.

"Of course not, but there's gotta be another way."

"Yeah, well I don't see any other options laying around here, do you?" Ethan raised the vial to his lips and Jayden raised his gun, training it squarely on his chest. Ethan froze.

"If you drink that, I will fucking shoot you myself, I swear to God."

"You wouldn't." Except Ethan wasn't terribly sure. In his dark suit and the dark glasses, Jayden looked more like a hit-man than an officer of the law. Sure, he wasn't as physically violent as Lieutenant Blake had been, but Ethan had no way of knowing what Jayden was capable of.

"Try me." Calm and detached.

_So fucking detached._

Ethan took a step toward him, his hopelessness giving way to anger. "It's not your fucking life! You have nothing to lose!"

Jayden stood now, his own voice raising in response, "Yeah, you're right! I DON'T have anything to lose! Except I'm gonna have to be the one to tell a ten year old little boy that it's his fault his father's dead!"

Ethan deflated a little bit. "That's not fair."

"Life's not fucking fair! Even if I were to sugar coat it, do you think he won't figure it out? That he won't put two and two together?"

"I'm doing this for him…"

"And he will blame himself forever, Ethan! Don't you dare think he won't. Every time his friends go camping or fishing with THEIR dads, or they get picked up from hockey practice, or even if they just brag about that tree house their dad helped them build, or that car they restored together… EVERY FUCKING TIME, he'll be reminded that he doesn't have a dad because HE GOT YOU KILLED!"

The young agent was shaking with rage and whiter than a ghost except for the crimson drop of blood that began to trail down his upper lip from his nose. The gun was trembling in his hand and Ethan was fairly alarmed at the quiet man's sudden outburst. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with ME? Don't you get it? You can't fucking fix it, you can't say you're sorry! It never goes away and it never, EVER gets better! So if you want to do this, go ahead, but you'd better be damned sure that all those father and son bonding moments you've had up until now are gonna last the kid for a long fucking time because he won't get to have anymore, you stupid, SELFISH son of a bitch!"

"At least he'll be alive!" Ethan almost felt like he was arguing with himself.

_Everything he's saying is true… but what else can I do? What other option is there?_

Jayden slowly sank back into the chair, folding in on himself like a collapsing hot air balloon. He set the gun on the floor and held his head with both hands. He was shaking like a leaf and rocking back and forth. Ethan stood immobile, unsure of what to do.

"What do you want me to say, Jayden? I love my son. I will do ANYTHING I have to to save my son."

"Shaun will never forgive you."

"I guess that's a sacrifice I have to make." Ethan raised the vial again.

"Please don't. There has to be another way."

"You think I haven't tried to think of one? You think this is the EASY way out?" Ethan turned away. "Believe me, I wish there was an easier way, but I need to do this to get the last letters for the hangman. It's the only way I'll find Shaun." He turned back, entreating the agent. "Drinking the poison is the only way to save Shaun."

Jayden pulled his sunglasses off and Ethan was shocked at the bright red glassy look in his eyes. They hadn't looked like that when they'd first gotten in the car. Jayden's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Wait a minute. Hangman? What are you talking about?"

"Every trial I complete gives me more letters for the hangman, for the address where I can find Shaun. I'm so close. Just one more and I'll have all the letters I need. I just need to do this one last thing."

Jayden's voice was quiet, polite. A far cry from his outburst of moments ago. "Would you mind if I had a look?" He held out his hand expectantly.

Ethan pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and handed it over. Jayden looked at it intently, his expression blank. Then the corners of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. Ethan shifted impatiently. "What?"

"I can fix this…" Jayden shot to his feet. His body seemed to vibrate with a sudden influx of energy."I can fix this, Ethan, just don't do anything stupid. Give me five minutes, okay? I can fix this in five minutes!"

Before Ethan could answer, Jayden was sprinting down the hallway towards the street. "JAYDEN! Dammit!" Ethan carefully set the glass bottle on the table, looking once more at the video screens.

_Please, God, don't let me regret this…_

He hurried to follow Jayden outside, one arm pressed tightly to his side, an almost useless attempt to keep his broken ribs from grinding against each other when he moved. When he reached the street, Jayden had a laminated map laid out on the hood of the car and was reading it intently, heedless of the rain that continued to pour down around him. He barely looked up to glance at him. "Why the hell couldn't you give this to me sooner?"

Ethan ignored the insult. "You've got something?"

"Theodore Roosevelt! Only president in American history who could eat lightning bolts and shit Chuck Norrises. Got shot in the chest one afternoon and an hour later proceeded to give a three hour speech as if nothing was wrong. He figured since he wasn't coughing up blood, he didn't need to go to the hospital. The guy was a fucking lion of a man."

Ethan lifted his hands in a 'so what' gesture. "And? What does that have to do with Shaun?"

Jayden grinned and shook his head as if it was obvious. "There's four streets named after him within the killer's Geolocalizing zone. I remember thinking when I first got here that it was odd that he had Martin Luther King beat in this city. It doesn't happen often. Usually if anybody comes close, it's Kennedy or Jefferson. But that doesn't matter. Anyway, we've got four possible streets named Theodore Roosevelt. With eight as the cross street, we can narrow it down further. See here? Middle of downtown. No good. And here? That's probably a restaurant or something…"

Ethan felt his heart speed up as Jayden pointed out locations on the map.

_Has he figured it out? Was it really that easy?_

Jayden's hand was trembling in excitement as he pointed at another spot on the map.

"But here… here we got a duck pond and over here is an industrial area on the waterfront. Duck pond makes no sense, right? Right. There's too many people around, somebody would hear him. No, the duck pond is out. That leaves us with the waterfront. There's our spot, right there! A warehouse. It makes sense. THAT is where we're going to find Shaun! I'm sure of it!"

Ethan nodded. "Let's go."

As Jayden came around the car, his eyes rolled up to the back of his head he collapsed to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Jayden!" Ethan rushed forward to him and pulled him up. His head rolled to the side before flopping down to his chest.

_Shit! What the hell happened?! What's wrong with him?_

Ethan frantically felt at Jayden's neck for a pulse. It was beating fast like a rabbit's and his skin was hot to the touch. He was burning up from a fever.

_Oh, Christ, what now? Call an ambulance… Something's terribly wrong with him and if I don't get him to a hospital… Shit! I don't have time for this! I have to find Shaun!_

Ethan searched his pockets for the cell phone, but couldn't find it. He reached down to check Jayden's pockets when the young man's voice startled him. "M'm fine…"

"Excuse me?" Ethan tried to pretend he hadn't jumped a foot in the air.

"I'm fine… just dizzy…" He was holding his head up, looking around in a dazed confusion. He touched his upper lip and blinked in surprise as he looked at the blood on his fingers. "Just dizzy," he said again and struggled to stand.

"You were unconscious for almost a minute and you think you're fine?" Ethan helped him and propped Jayden up between himself and the car.

"Well, obviously fine is a relative term. I'm fine enough. Good enough for government work, right?" He blinked his eyes a few times staring into the distance at nothing at all. He lifted a hand up in front of his eyes, then dropped it. "I think you'd better drive."

"What's wrong?"

"I might hit a tree."

Ethan didn't try to hide his confusion. "There aren't any trees here."

"Says you. Help me into the car, will you?" Ethan supported him around to the passenger side.

"You don't seem surprised by any of this. I take it it's happened before?"

"…Maybe." Jayden closed his eyes and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead, grimacing in pain.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Brain hemorrhage, concussion, aneurysm thing… Something like that."

Ethan got in the car on the driver's side and buckled his seat belt. "Sounds serious."

"Probably is."

"I could drop you off at the hospital."

"Not until we get your son back."

"You're not going to die on me, are you?"

Jayden's tilted his head back and closed his eyes. "Outlook hazy. Concentrate and ask again."

"Right. Dying would deny you the pleasure of being mysterious and cryptic. Message received."

Ethan put the car in gear and began to drive. Being on the road didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt sick to his stomach as he drove away from Rainbow Road. Drove away from the last trial.

_What if Jayden's wrong? What if… God, what if I just killed my son!_

His hands clenched the wheel tighter. His whole body broke out in a cold sweat.

_What if I made the wrong decision? What if Shaun isn't at the warehouse?_

Ethan forced himself to look at Jayden. He had dug some napkins out of the glove box and was holding them to his nose.

_How could I be so stupid? My son's life hangs in the balance and I'm trusting everything to a kid with a bloody nose! He's not even old enough to BE a father, how could he possibly know what I'm going through, and he dares to judge me?! This is such bullshit! I should have done it! I should have just drank the poison! Then at least Shaun would be alive, I would KNOW that Shaun would be alive! What if the killer was watching? What if he saw me leave? What if right now he's killing my son? Oh, God…!_

Talking would help. Talking would keep his mind off the fear. The words stuck in his throat when he first opened his mouth, but he swallowed and tried again. "What happened to your head?"

Jayden turned his glazed eyes toward Ethan. "Sorry?"

"Your brain hemorrhaging… thing."

"Well, it's a bit of a long story and it involves a baseball bat, a computer, and some mildly shady circumstances."

"We've got time." Ethan couldn't drive any faster and it would still take a good thirty minutes to drive to the docks from here. Time was something they had plenty of.

"I can't say I really want to talk about it."

"Norman, I am so keyed up right now, I can't guarantee that I won't hit a tree myself. Talk to me, please? Help me keep my mind off things."

Jayden turned his head sharply at the use of his first name. He seemed to take it for what it was, an earnest request for help. Ethan glanced at him from the corner of his eye as he continued to drive.

Jayden nodded solemnly as he thought for a moment. "I use an experimental computer called ARI. It interfaces with the human brain and hooks you directly to a super computer tied into the FBI database. It collects and scans forensic evidence at crime scenes, stores it electronically and cross references it with every other piece of relevant data known to man. It's faster, more efficient, more productive… The modern scientific touchstone of forensic science."

Ethan nodded, following along. "Sounds interesting. Is that what you were talking about when you said you lost all your evidence? You lost the ARI?"

Jayden's jaw popped as he ground his teeth. "Yes. A more apt description would be that I watched helplessly while Blake smashed it to bits, but, hey. Arguing semantics doesn't change the fact that I no longer have possession of it, so yes, I lost it."

"Can't you just… call the FBI and get another one?"

Jayden rubbed his forehead. "It's complicated. There's a lot of paperwork I would have to fill out. It would take too long. Not to mention there would be a lot of questions and some medical examinations, a lot of tests that I probably wouldn't be able to pass right now. Inefficient and unproductive."

"But the evidence is still in the database, you said, right?"

"That's true. The evidence isn't gone, but I sure as hell can't get access to it. Not in the next three hours anyway. If we bring the killer in, we'll still be able to prosecute him, but that doesn't help with the current time constraint. If I had ARI with me, I could have loaded your letters into the database and it would have popped out an address along with the building's records of ownership. I could have taken that name and cross referenced it with the other information I have on the suspect to see if it all coincides. I also could have analyzed that poison to see what it was, if it's something common that anyone can get their hands on or if it required somebody in a special career field to procure it. I could have then cross referenced THAT with the information I have… It's just a lot easier to get a lot of information in a very short amount of time."

It took Ethan a moment to realize that Jayden had stopped talking. When he looked over at the young man he could see that he was shivering. Jayden's forehead was covered in a fine sheen of moisture that could have been sweat or rain water and he was staring down at his trembling hands.

"It sounds impressive. Why would you need a medical examination?"

"Using ARI has the unfortunate side effect of causing lethal brain hemorrhaging in about ninety seven percent of the people that use it. Believe me, there would be medical exams."

Ethan's eyes widened as he looked over at Jayden

_Ninety seven percent? Is he joking?_

Jayden's eyes also widened, but they did so more from panic than surprise. "Tree… TREE!"

Ethan looked back to the road just in time to swerve out of oncoming traffic and back into his own lane. The adrenaline made his fingertips tingle. "You know, we generally call those semi-trucks in the real world, not trees."

Jayden nodded. He looked even paler than before. "Just don't hit them, okay?"

Ethan glanced in the rear view mirror. "Okay. That sounds like a good plan. Keep talking to me. ARI kills people?"

"Most of the time."

"But you're still alive?"

"Clean living, good karma. What more do you want?"

"Why do you still use it if it could kill you?"

Jayden bristled and his tone turned scathingly sarcastic. "Well, I don't know, Ethan. I could have sworn I had a compelling reason… it couldn't have been that I was trying to save your kid, because that's not a good enough cause to kill myself over, now is it? I mean, he's not MY son or anything, so how could I possibly care that much? I'd have to be his dad to understand the complexities of sacrificing myself to save his life."

Ethan glanced at Jayden.

_That's the second time that concept has pissed him off. I'm just trying to save my son! What right does he have to judge me?_

Ethan kept his voice carefully neutral. "Mind if I ask why that made you so angry?"

"Who says I'm angry? Do I seem angry to you?"

"You seem a little on edge. Need more Excedrin?"

Jayden shook his head. "What I need, I'm trying not to take." He reached into the glove box and took out the bottle of Excedrin and shook some pills into his palm and dry swallowed them.

_Huh. Guess he thought better of it. If he has some better pain medication, why wouldn't he want to take it? I almost wish he'd share._

Ethan held out one hand and Jayden shook a few of the pills into it.

"So you collapsing and bleeding out of your nose is because you use ARI too much?"

"I honestly can't be sure. This hasn't happened to me before. I thought I was keeping it under control, but last night… I just don't know anymore. It could be from overexposure to ARI, shockwaves or something from when I over did it last night, or it could be from ARI withdrawal since I haven't used it at all today… It could be from overdosing on… on my medication last night, or the withdrawal from that… It's a fucking balancing act and I'm doing it blind folded. I'm about to fall off the wire and I don't know which way to lean. It could just be that I've put one too many charges on my body's credit plan and now the bank's trying to foreclose. Too much physical and psychological stress can make unhappy things happen."

"I guess that explains why you're so upset. I thought it was because of losing your job."

"I haven't lost my job yet…" Jayden thought for a moment. "Why do you think I'm upset?"

"You threatened to shoot me."

"Oh… That. Yeah, I guess I could see how that might have been over the top. Sorry about that."

Ethan popped the pills into his mouth, wincing at the bitter taste. They were harder to swallow without water than Jayden had made it look. "Not the first time it's happened this week. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't want to talk about it."

"It might make you feel better."

"Alright, Dr. Mars. You want me to talk about it? Fine."

"You don't have to. We could talk about something else."

"I was about Shaun's age, ten years old. Mom was working late and it was a Friday, so guy's night out, right? My dad was taking me to see a movie and we stopped at the gas station to buy all the candy we could stuff into his coat pockets. We could have bought it at the movie theater, but the candy they sell was always so expensive so we just smuggled our own in. We were breaking the rules and it was our little secret."

Jayden let out a short, ironic laugh. He'd long since crumpled the bloody napkins into a ball, now he grabbed a fresh one and began tearing it into strips. "So. We're at the gas station, standing in line with an armful of goodies when these two guys come in and try to rob the place. One of them grabs me around the neck and holds a knife to my face. Dad tries to talk him into letting me go, tries to save me… That's when the second guy shot him. Emptied his magazine, laughed hysterically the whole fucking time. Then he started singing 'Life is a Cabaret' while he beat the store owner to death with the cash register. The first guy panics and runs off, I guess he wasn't planning on anyone getting killed, and I… Well, I ran. I ran out of the store as fast as my little legs could take me and I hid underneath the car until the man with the gun went away. He was covered in blood and whistling that damned show tune and I stuffed my fist in my mouth to keep from making a sound because I knew if he found me, he was going to kill me. I was so scared, I actually pissed my pants, but I didn't make a sound and he walked right past me and kept on walking… But I will never forget that my dad died because he was buying me some fucking milk duds. It's been nineteen years and it never gets better and it never goes away and I can't ever fucking fix it. Does that make more sense to you now? And no, talking about it doesn't make me feel better and yes, I fucking hate  _Cabaret_."

Ethan swallowed. He hadn't expected anything like that.

_Hell… I can't imagine… watching his dad die right in front of him… I guess he has a right to be sensitive. Maybe he was right. If I had taken that poison, I would have done the same thing to Shaun. After watching his brother die, losing his father, too... right in front of him... What would that have done to him?_

Ethan tried to speak without his voice cracking from emotion. "Is that how you got the scar on your cheek?"

Jayden spoke quietly, "Yeah. That's how I got the scar on my cheek."

"Did they ever catch the guy?"

Jayden was looking out the window, counting the raindrops as they trailed down the glass. "Nope. Never did. The one that cut me was found a week later in a ditch. But the one who shot my dad got away scot free. He killed five more off duty cops in Boston before moving on to another city. They credited him with forty three confirmed killings before he just disappeared. I actually wrote my dissertation on him. How sick is that?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't kill him."

The windshield wipers were the only sound that could be heard. Ethan's fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

"Jayden… Tell me the truth. Is Shaun going to be alive when we get there?"

Jayden didn't answer right away and Ethan almost thought that he hadn't heard him. Then he nodded. "Yeah. He is."

Ethan fell silent and continued to drive.


	11. Chapter 11

Ethan had barely stopped the car when he was ripping off the seat belt and running for the front door of the old warehouse. Jayden blinked in astonishment.

_Damn, he moves fast…_

He stumbled out of the car, awkwardly pulling his gun out as he did. "Ethan! Ethan wait!"

_Fuck, he's gonna get himself killed!_

"Ethan!"

Jayden forced himself to run, trying to scan the environment as he did. It was too dark, there were too many places to hide. At least the trees had gone away some time ago. He hadn't made a big deal about them, but he'd never had a hallucination last so long before. It had scared him far more than he wanted to admit. He didn't know if Ethan had sensed his unease in the car as he stared at his surroundings and seen nothing but a vast and never ending forest when he knew very well that he should have seen rain and buildings, but he was very grateful to him for the unrelenting chatter. Talking in the car had helped keep his mind off the rising terror and the falling autumn leaves and the flashes of lightning that had begun to flicker at the edges of his vision when the sky had darkened. Talking had been a good idea. Running headlong into a building with a killer that could be waiting to ambush them was NOT such a good idea.

_I'd take a snowball's chance in hell over betting the killer isn't here somewhere. Judging by the screens and the cameras he had set up, there's no way he doesn't know we're coming._

Jayden tried to hold his gun with only his right hand, but it was difficult. His hands had started up their trembling routine with a vengeance and he could see the barrel of the gun shaking. Of course, holding a gun in one hand was about as stable as a Jenga tower after the players had done five shots of tequila. That's why they only taught the two hand approach to handling fire arms. One handed was a feat left strictly to action stars in seventies movies. His left shoulder and arm had become so difficult and painful to move in the last few hours that straightening that arm was like forcing marble to reshape itself, but he somehow was able to lift it just enough to hold his gun steady. It hurt like hell, but he'd have a better chance of hitting what he aimed at, and he had a feeling he would need every advantage he could give himself.

Of course, by the time he'd managed that small, seemingly insignificant feat, Ethan had already disappeared into the warehouse.

"Fuck!"

He had no choice but to follow him. Jayden trotted forward to the building, then shoved his shoulder into the iron door and pushed it open, keeping his gun pointed where he was looking. Ethan's voice was echoing across the vast empty space.

"SHAUN! SHAUN!"

_You're going to get us killed! Stop screaming, for fuck's sake!_

Jayden's heart was pounding in his chest as he quickly transitioned his focus from corner to corner then from upper landing to ceiling and down the other side. He couldn't see anybody, but that didn't mean they weren't here.

Ethan was running ahead of him, calling still. "Shaun!"

Jayden kept up his rapid scrutiny of their surroundings as he followed. There it was! Back corner of the ceiling. A security camera panned over to look at him.

_How's it going, asshole? Nice to see you._

"SHAUN!" His tone had changed from anxious worry to relieved surprise. Ethan dropped to his knees up ahead. Jayden hurried forward.

"Is he alive?"

"I can't tell! Help me get this grate off!" Ethan tugged frantically at the iron bars in the floor and Jayden peered over his shoulder, assessing the situation. Sure enough, there was a tiny head bobbing in the water.

"Hang on, kid! Ethan, move back." He aimed his gun at the lock holding the grate shut. Ethan scrambled backwards as Jayden pulled the trigger. Noise erupted and echoed around the empty warehouse as the lock shattered from the impact of the bullet. Jayden shoved the gun into its holster and bent down to grab hold of the grate with one hand. "Little help?"

Ethan grabbed onto the bars and together they lifted it up and threw it back. In the little time it had taken them, Shaun's head had already sunk below the water, out of sight.

"Shaun!"

Ethan dropped to his knees and plunged his hand in to grab his son by the coat. When he pulled him out, Jayden could see that Shaun's eyes were closed. He wasn't struggling. He wasn't moving…

_He's not even breathing! Christ!_

Ethan's voice was heartbroken as he pulled Shaun close to him. "Shaun? Shaun! No…" Ethan sobbed as he held his son's body in his arms.

_Oh, God…_

"Ethan! Check his pulse." Ethan looked up and blinked at him. His eyes were dead… dead like a shark's… Jayden shivered uncomfortably.

Ethan shook his head numbly, speaking as if in a daze, "He doesn't have one."

"Snap yourself out of it, he's not gone yet! Chest compressions! Can you do them? I've only got one good arm."

Ethan's eyes widened and he nodded quickly, laying Shaun's body gently on the floor. He was crying as he started doing CPR. Jayden knelt by Shaun's head and counted silently as he watched, every nerve in his body strained, listening as hard as he could for one sound from that little boy.

"Come on, kid, breathe…"

Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen. Jayden leaned down and began the rescue breaths. Two deep breaths per fifteen compressions. Ethan started again, sobbing quietly every time he pressed down.

"Shaun, don't leave me… come back to me, son."

Jayden gave him two more breaths.

_Come on, kid, if you knew how hard your dad worked to get here for you… You can't give up, you can't let him down now._

"Breathe, Shaun! Come on, you got this, kid!"

Five… six… seven… Suddenly the tiny body tensed and jerked and Shaun began coughing up water. Ethan gasped in joy and pulled Shaun close, hugging him tightly. Norman's sigh of relief was much quieter, more contained, but still just as heartfelt.

"Good job, Ethan."

The look in Ethan's eyes, bright blue with unshed tears of gratitude, was all the thanks that Jayden needed.

The silence was broken by the last person in the world Jayden wanted to hear right now. Probably the last person he wanted standing behind him either, for that matter.

"Put your hands in the air where I can see them, Jayden."

"Blake, you fucking asshole!" Jayden didn't hesitate to do what he was told. There were no doubts in his mind that Blake would shoot him if given the chance. He raised his right arm above his head and lifted his left as high as it would go which was only about shoulder height. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jayden didn't dare turn to look at him, but he could imagine his gun was pointing right at the back of his skull and he was probably smirking, the son of a bitch. "It's simple, Norman. I'm catching a killer. Did you really think I was just going to let you walk out of that station with my suspect? I knew if I followed you, I'd hit pay dirt. And look, you practically wrapped him in a bow tie for me."

"You have this all wrong, Blake. I know what it looks like…"

"What it looks like,  _Norman_ , is that you are in some pretty deep shit! Now shut the fuck up and MAYBE you'll get out of this with nothing more than a suspension and a dog shit detail for the next five years! Ethan Mars, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and murder of Jeremy Bowles, John Winters—"

"BLAKE! Will you fucking listen to me?" Jayden couldn't help but be perfectly aware of his disadvantage. He was on his knees with his hands in the air and Blake was behind him. There was no way that a man who craved power as much as Carter Blake did would submit to a man in Jayden's position. Arguing with him was a lost cause, but he had to try.

Blake's voice was a sharp bellow of barely contained rage. "Shut up, Jayden! Don't you understand how fucked you are? You forged a court order to break a serial killer out of police custody! Don't you get it, kid? I could have your ass thrown in jail for the stunt you just pulled!"

"Blake, I'm telling you, the killer is here, but it's not Ethan. The address of this building, call it in, find out who owns it. I'll bet you dollars to doughnuts it belongs to a man named John Sheppard."

"If you think I'm stupid enough to fall for that shit—"

"John Sheppard DIED thirty four years ago. He drowned in rain water! They laid orchids on his fucking grave! His twin brother, his brother who watched him drown, HE is the Origami Killer, Blake! I swear to God, I am not lying to you, all you have to do is look into it."

Blake was silent for a moment. Jayden closed his eyes and held his breath.

_Maybe he's thinking it through… maybe he's starting to listen to me._

"Take your gun out of your holster and set it on the floor next to you."

"DAMMIT BLAKE! The killer is here and if you—"

"Take your gun out of the holster, Norman. I'm not gonna tell you again. And if you press me, I might get a little twitchy and accidentally shoot someone."

_Fuck… Accidentally shoot someone? Is he talking about me, or Ethan? He wouldn't kill the kid, would he? No, not even he's that fucked up… Fuck, fuck, fuck! The killer's here somewhere! Fucking Blake! He's letting him walk right out of here… or worse, setting us up for a bloodbath. Fuck!_

Jayden took one look at Ethan. He was holding Shaun tightly to his chest, his terrified eyes looking at Jayden, silently asking him what to do.

_I wish I knew, Ethan._

Very slowly, he reached with his right hand and pulled the gun out and set it down next to him.

"Very good, I knew you could follow instructions. Now, place your hands on your head. BOTH of them."

"I can't… I can't move my left arm."

"Well, then, here. Let me help you with that."

A hand grabbed Jayden's left wrist in a steely grip and jerked it upwards. A scream of agony wrenched from his throat and he collapsed forward onto his side. His arms were pulled behind him and the familiar sensation of metal biting into his wrists barely registered in his mind as Blake handcuffed him. Pain spiked so hard that it made him light headed. His vision swam as his brain tried desperately to shut itself off.

_Maybe not going to hospital wasn't such a good idea… whichever time it was that I declined to go last… Maybe I should lay here and wait for an ambulance… it won't hurt anymore if I pass out… it won't hurt anymore if I take some triptocaine… Triptocaine sounds like a damned good idea just about now.  
_

His fingers flexed in futility. He couldn't reach his pocket with his hands cuffed behind his back. He was left laying on his stomach, face pressed against the cold and wet ground. Fire seemed to pulse in waves from his shoulder down through his body. He couldn't move so he just concentrated on laying still and breathing until the pain faded away. The cold sweats and the shaking and the nausea that came with his drug cravings, symptoms that could make him drop to his knees in agony on a bad day, were only minor annoyances now compared to the hurt that encompassed his body.

Blake's voice was close to his ear. "Now, you're going to sit here and behave yourself, while I do my job, understand?"

"Blake…"

A swift and sudden pain to his ribs made him choke off what he was about to say in a fit of coughing and agonized gasps.

Ethan's voice was quiet. "All I wanted was to find my son, Lieutenant. If you still want to arrest me, I'll come with you now."

"Pretty noble for a fucking killer. Did you think we wouldn't find it?"

Jayden was puzzled. Ethan sounded puzzled, too. "Find what?"

"The secret room where you grow your orchids, the one with the live video feed so you can watch those boys die, you sick FUCK!"

"I don't understand… What are you talking about?"

"The only thing you need to understand is this gun. Now, stand up and face the wall with your hands behind your head, or I put a bullet between your eyes. Understand that?"

_Well, THAT'S stupid... If he's facing the wall, how are you going to see his eyes to put a bullet between them, dumbass?_

Jayden shivered again. If he hadn't already been perfectly aware of how sick he was just now, the fuzzy, irreverent feeling of his own thoughts would have been a good indicator.

"Got any knives or needles in your pocket? Nothing that's gonna stick me when I search you?"

Jayden had to imagine that Blake was patting Ethan down, but his head was facing the wrong way to see anything and he didn't have the wherewithal or the desire to move it right away. The next thing Jayden heard was a small, trembling voice, frantic with worry. "Dad… Dad, what's going on?"

"It'll be alright, son. Lieutenant Blake just wants to take me down to the police station to answer some questions. It's alright, I promise."

"N-n-no! No, Dad, you can't go with the police! You can't! He'll hurt you!"

_Damn, the kid should be a profiler… Ten years old and he's already got Blake's number._

"Shaun, he's not going to hurt me, I promise."

"But, Dad! He'll take you away and put you in a well and I won't ever see you again!"

"He's not going to do anything of the sort, Shaun."

Blake piped in, trying to sound reassuring and managing fairly well for a man with such a violent temper. "That's right, kid. Everything's gonna be okay. Your mom is down at the station waiting to take you home, so come here and be a good little boy and you'll be eating chocolate ice cream for dinner in no time."

"That's what the other policeman said."

_Other police man? What's he talking about…?_

Blake seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Don't be fucking ridiculous. I know you think that lying is going to help your dad, but—"

"I'm not lying!"

_You tell him, kid._

"Look, I'm taking your dad to the station, no 'ands', 'ifs', or 'buts'. You can either come with, or stay here where Norman can keep an eye on you. It doesn't matter much to me. Come on, Mars."

Ethan spoke up, his voice tinged with anger. "My son needs to go to the hospital. The least you can do is call an ambulance for him."

"No, the least I can do is lock you up so you don't do this to any more children."

Jayden shifted, trying to lift his head. The pain was beginning to subside… or his mind was drifting too far away to feel it… but he thought he could make a coherent statement if he tried. "Shaun…" His voice cracked and he coughed again. "Shaun, listen to me. You need to go with so you can look after your dad, okay? Your dad's been through the wringer a few times and he needs you to be with him so he doesn't have to worry anymore, do you understand? Now, Blake there is a mean son of a bitch, but he's going to make sure nothing else bad happens to you. I know you're tired and you're cold and hungry as anything, but if you do this for me, if you look out for your dad for me, I'll make sure Charlene shares her secret stash of gourmet hot chocolate with you. I bet she even has some cookies to go with it. Can you do that for me, Shaun? Can you look after your dad for me, kiddo? Make sure he doesn't get hurt?"

Shaun swallowed and nodded quickly. Jayden smiled. "That's good. You're a good kid, you know that?"

Blake laughed. "Nice work, Jayden. Maybe you should have been a psychologist."

"I am a psychologist, you fucktard."

"Don't worry. I'll be back to get you before the rats can eat your pretty face off."

"Don't expect me to hold my breath." It wasn't quite a petulant grumble, but it was close. Jayden relaxed and lay flat, letting the cold, wet cement cool his fever-warm face. He was thoroughly exhausted and right now he wanted nothing more than for Ethan and Shaun to get out of this place, to be taken somewhere where they would both be safe. Blake was going to do that for him, however unwittingly. Sure Ethan would be locked up in the interrogation room again, but he would be safer there than here, especially once Madison found out where he was. They didn't dare lay a finger on him with a reporter standing by, making him her business. It'd be all over the news soon. She would see it. She would know to go to the station…

_Maybe if I ask nice, she'll forgive me for not calling her when I found out where Shaun was… She must not have found out anything from Anne Sheppard. She didn't call… How long ago was she supposed to call?_

When Jayden opened his eyes, he knew he was alone in the warehouse. It was so silent in here, he could hear the rain drops on the roof of the building, the rain hitting the water in the tank… If he listened, he could even hear the seagulls by the docks. Blake had obviously driven off with Ethan and Shaun already. He hadn't even noticed them leave. He was very alone. He arched his back up, straining his neck to see the camera set up in the corner of the ceiling.

_Well, maybe not QUITE alone…_

He rolled onto his side and gasped from the pain that radiated from his shoulder. The sheer amount of it told him that whatever he'd done to that particular group of muscles in the last few days had been more than seriously debilitating. Pain usually didn't register for him. Between the overshadowing agony of near constant headaches and the pain killing effects of triptocaine, any number of cuts, scrapes, and bruises could be shrugged off and ignored. But the fact that he KNEW his shoulder hurt and that it hurt enough to make him want to curl into a ball and cry had him very unsettled.

_Next time I get run through with a sword, I'll definitely make a point of going to a hospital. This is fucking ridiculous._

Very gingerly, every movement made a thousand times more difficult by the damnable pain, he stretched his arms down towards his feet as far as they would go. The feat he was attempting wasn't even easy when he was in perfect shape, now it seemed almost like a Herculean effort to carefully slip his feet behind the handcuffs and maneuver his arms to the front of his body. He was sweating and shaking by the time he was finished.

Jayden pushed himself up to a sitting position and rolled his neck and right shoulder, trying to ease some of the tension. The migraine was beginning to pound away at the backs of his eyes like a metal sledgehammer banging on granite. His vision began to swim and he grit his teeth.

_Now is not the time to lose focus. The killer is probably still here somewhere, and thanks to Blake, I'm practically a sitting duck… Well, maybe more like a trussed pig, but sitting duck works, too._

Jayden willed himself to bring the world into focus in spite of the pain. The first thing he needed to do was to find his gun. Blake had kicked it into a corner somewhere and without it, he was almost helpless. He groaned at the thought of moving when every breath sent rods of fire shooting down his arm and a similar agony to the base of his skull and flashing in his eyes.

_It won't be so bad if I just take a moment. I'll just sit here for a minute and if it doesn't get better… Triptocaine will make the pain go away… Triptocaine sounds like a really good idea right now.  
_

It was then that he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. He squinted, looking into the dark and gasped in shock as the dismal world around him was replaced by bright sunlight and fluffy white clouds and the deep green of the rain forest thousands of feet below the great white towering cliffs he sat on. The sun felt warm on his face and the strong breeze blew through his hair, bringing with it the smell of orchids.

_This is wrong. You're not in ARI, you're in a fucking warehouse, Norman! Pull yourself together!_

The wind gusted and the sun beat down and if he listened he could even hear birds chirping from the trees beneath the clouds. The grass that grew up here felt soft beneath his hands. It was real, and peaceful and nothing hurt.

Jayden closed his eyes. The smell of orchids filled the air. That was wrong. This place didn't smell like orchids. Exotic flowers, sure, the super fresh tang of high altitude air that's been purified by a hundred thousand trees, certainly. He could even smell the rocks when the sun heated them enough. Rock had it's own salty and distinctive smell. But orchids weren't something that he was supposed to smell in this environment.

_Which means the orchids I'm smelling aren't here, are they?_

When Jayden opened his eyes, he could see that another person stood on his small plateau. The man was heavyset and tall, six foot six maybe, with gray hair and a trench coat. His face was filled with rage and he had a gun pointing directly at Jayden's face.

Jayden grinned and shook his head.

_Things just keeps getting better and better._

"Scott Sheppard, I presume?"


	12. Chapter 12

"Scott Sheppard I presume?"

The words hung in the air like the sword of Damocles. Jayden could still hear the birds in the jungle, could still see the sun and the river far below. It was strange to see somebody else walking right into the middle of an ARI environment.

Jayden wanted to ask him if he was real person or not. He wasn't sure how well that would go over, so he kept his mouth shut.

_He has to be real. If he was part of my hallucination, he'd be sweating from the heat. And he wouldn't be wearing a rain coat. And in all seriousness, how could a man that large climb up a cliff this damned big? It just doesn't make sense. He has to be real. Which means that what he's carrying is PROBABLY a real gun. I think. I hope. Either way, I've got serious fucking problems, don't I?_

Scott Sheppard stepped forward, pointing his gun at Jayden like an accusing finger. "You're not supposed to be here!"

_The sentiment is shared, believe me._

Jayden shrugged his uninjured shoulder. "Yeah, that's my travel agent's fault. I could have sworn I asked for tickets to Cancun…"

The large man rushed forward and pistol whipped Jayden across the face.

_Maybe that wasn't the most brilliant thing to say._

A voice that sounded suspiciously like his own scoffed at him,  _"Ya think?"_

Jayden looked around for the source of the voice. He was sure he hadn't said it himself. While he pushed himself back up into a sitting position he tried to ignore the strange way that his vision trailed behind the movement of his eyes. It was almost like seeing echoes. He shook his head to clear it then looked up to see an exact copy of himself staring down at him with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The image of himself, the one that was not really Jayden but sure as hell looked like him, didn't look too impressed.  _"Maybe you should save those witty rejoinders for occasions when a deranged killer DOESN'T have a gun to your head."_

_I wasn't asking you..._

Shelby wasn't too happy looking either. He was walking back and forth, barely containing his ire. "You're NOT his father! Only his father was supposed to save him!"

"Guess I spoiled your game, huh?"

Shelby stepped forward and kicked Jayden in the face, knocking him onto his back. Two blows to the same part of his face had made his mouth start to bleed, hot and coppery and thoroughly nauseating. Jayden tentatively probed his teeth with his tongue, grimacing unhappily when he felt one of his bicuspids wiggle slightly. Jayden looked from Shelby to NotJayden and back again. NotJayden shrugged.  _"Don't look at me. You're the one pissing him off."_

Shelby paced back and forth, his anger filling him with a sort of kinetic energy that almost made him seem to levitate off the floor an inch or two.

_Or maybe it just seems that way because I'm really losing my shit…_

" _You aren't losing your shit, Norman, you're dying. Just thought I'd clarify."_  There was nothing but certainty in NotJayden's voice and his eyes were sad as he looked down on the handcuffed and helpless version of himself.

Jayden's stomach clenched.

_Dying…?_

Shelby didn't give him time to ponder the revelation. He was practically spitting with rage. "You've ruined everything!"

"I ruin lots of things. It's nothing personal, I promise."

"Do you know how long I've waited? How long I've searched for a father who could sacrifice himself to save his son? AND WHAT DO I GET? NOTHING! NOBODY!"

He was in no mood to listen to a self-righteous asshole lecture him on sacrifice.

"I'm nobody, huh? I don't… what? I don't count? Destroying my life to save Shaun Mars doesn't count because I'm not his father? Well, fuck you too! You don't think a person can sacrifice themselves for somebody they've never met? Seriously? What about cops and firemen? What about soldiers? People sacrifice themselves to save others every fucking day, pal! Just because YOU drew a shitty damned straw—"

The retaliation this time was a kick to his shoulder. Before he even had a chance to scream, another swift kick to his stomach came, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sending what little he'd eaten earlier shooting up his throat. He heaved and retched, choking on the bile that burned his esophagus. His eyes filled with tears as he coughed and gasped and spat out blood and vomit.

NotJayden's voice was dry.  _"You're not helping your chances any. You know that, right?"_

_Chances of what? Dying… slower?_

" _Getting out of this in time. There's still time to save yourself… but it's running out."_

Jayden wanted to listen to what his fever born hallucination had to say, but Shelby kept interrupting. "All those people saying that they love each other… They're all just a pack of liars!"

Opening his mouth to reply just made him more nauseous and he clamped it shut. It was probably a good thing, too, because it would have only gotten him kicked again.

Shelby's voice held a tinge of regret to it now. "You shouldn't have gotten involved… You discovered my little secret. You and that reporter. Now, I'll have to kill you, too."

_Reporter? Which reporter? Not Madison… He can't be talking about Madison… Oh, God._

"R…reporter?"

"She discovered my secret. She found my hidden room. I locked her inside and burnt it to the ground."

_No… No, not Madison… Anybody but her!_

Jayden entreatingly looked up at the other version of himself, but he found nothing there but sad eyes and a grim frown.  _"What do you want me to say, Norman? That it's impossible? You know she's smart. She could have found him."_

"No, that can't be true… It can't be her."

Shelby stopped in front of Jayden, the lines in his face and the slump of his shoulders speaking of honest regret. "I didn't want to. Madison was such a nice girl. She brought doughnuts to the police station when we had our big cases. I didn't want to kill her, but she found out. I had to, you understand? Just like I have to kill you, too."

Jayden felt sick and it had nothing to do with the pain and the withdrawal. Heart sick. That's what he was. Heart sick and weary. And cold… so cold… Words he'd said only yesterday circled in his head.

_If I had to walk into the morgue and see you laying on an autopsy table… if I had to tell the mortician that 'Yeah, I know this girl, she was helping me with a case…'_

"Madison…"

Jayden blinked away the tears that clouded his vision in a pink mist. He touched a finger to his cheek, not surprised to see it come away wet with blood.

_You're wrong about having time to save myself. I've already run out of time. I just hadn't realized it until now…_

The cold barrel of the gun loomed like a giant tunnel in his vision. Was there a light at the end of his tunnel, or just more darkness… more pain? Jayden swallowed. Now was as good a time as any to find out. He turned his face away. He pulled his knees up close to his chest and wrapped his arms around them as best he could with handcuffs on.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?"

Shelby sounded honestly repentant. "I'm sorry."

Jayden set his jaw and stared down the barrel of the gun. A loud bang made him flinch, but it wasn't the bang of exploding gunpowder, it was a door. The metal door at the front of the warehouse.

_Now, who the hell is that? As far as deserted warehouses go, this one sure seems to be a popular hangout._

A familiar voice called out, "Scott Shelby, you sneaky son of a bitch! So you found this place, too, huh?"

Jayden groaned in frustration, dropping his head to rest on his knees.

_Why is it that when I think things can't get worse, Blake shows up again._

Shelby's voice wavered a bit, but Jayden didn't know if it was only because he was expecting it to. "Shit, Carter! You scared me! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Same old shit. Arresting scumbags, teaching arrogant little fuckers a lesson. You?"

"Finally got a breakthrough. Sniffed out a lead and followed it here. Then I find this little pup trussed up like a turkey and start thinking something's fishy and it isn't Thanksgiving dinner."

"Fishy? Jayden? Nah, he's pretty harmless. An arrogant rat bastard, yeah sure, but he isn't gonna knife you if you put the gun away."

"If he's harmless, why'd you cuff him?"

"Mouthed off to me one too many times. Thought I'd stick his nose in a corner and teach him a lesson."

Jayden chuckled, almost half hysterical. He lifted his head and looked over at NotJayden who still stood there, scowling unhappily.

_Do you hear that bastard? Standing there telling a serial killer that I'm a spoiled brat who needs a spanking… Don't tell me you don't find this funny._

" _Not as much as you seem to. I'm your subconscious, your sense of self-preservation. I wish you'd take this 'imminent danger' thing a bit more seriously."_

_Does it matter?_

" _If you die? Yes. To me it matters a great deal. I don't want to die, Norman."_

_Guess you'd better get used to the idea pretty damned quick._

" _Do you think Madison got used to it?"_

_Oh, you fucking cheater…_

All the hysteria left him in a rush. He felt it bleed out of him as if somebody had cut an artery and it was his blood that leaked out onto the floor. The shimmery image of sunshine dissolved into the disgusting, drab, dreary hell of a cold warehouse in a rainy city. The image of himself faded away last, leaving him alone with one man who wanted to kill him and another who just wanted to break him. Alone without a partner, without backup… without even a friend.

_Madison, I'm so sorry… So very sorry._

Jayden felt his throat tighten again and knew from the burning sensation just behind his eyes that he was still crying. He swallowed hard, unable to bear any longer the sound of the crooked cop and the child murderer chatting together like old friends. He cleared his throat loudly. "Hi, Blake. Thought you'd left."

"I did leave. Lucky for you, I ran into a black and white pretty close to here and they agreed to take Mars to the station for me. Then I started thinking about you here, alone and scared and crying for your mommy and I really couldn't think of an excuse to NOT come back and get you."

Jayden laughed sadly. "Lucky? Am I really lucky? I guess if you say it, it must be true. Lucky, lucky me."

"Fuck, Norman, you sound like somebody just shot your dog. Come on, you didn't really think I was just gonna leave you here all night, did you…? Fucking shit, kid! What's wrong with your eyes?"

He had finally lifted his head to look at Blake.

_Guess he didn't like what he saw._

His voice was flat and hollow, even to his own ears, like an empty coffin waiting to be filled. "What's wrong with my eyes? Well, I can't see them from here, but if I had to guess… I would say that my blood pressure spiked, forcing a blood clot through some of the smaller blood vessels in my brain and tore them open. I would say that I'm probably bleeding into my brain cavity. The pressure's building up and forcing the blood out of my eye sockets. But it's not so bad. I don't think I'm in any danger of losing my eye sight terribly soon. Not before I die, anyway."

Blake knelt down in front of Jayden and scrutinized him closely.

_If I didn't know any better, I would say that looks like concern, but I do know better, don't I?_

Blake's voice was low and gravely. "Are you fucking with me, Jayden? Because if you are…"

"Does it matter? I could be fucking with you. It's possible. But it's awfully hard to make yourself bleed out of your eye sockets. Does it really even matter? If I'm not fucking with you, I'm dead in five or ten minutes and it doesn't matter. If I am fucking with you, you'll kick me in the ribs and leave me here with Shelby and he'll put a bullet through my head the second you're gone and I'll be dead in five or ten minutes anyway and it still doesn't matter. Pick your poison and leave me in peace."

Blake seemed unsure of himself for a second before standing up straight and pulling out his phone. He dialed some numbers quickly then spoke into the phone. "This is Lieutenant Carter Blake. I have an officer down, repeat officer down. Requesting immediate medical assistance at 852 Theodore Roosevelt Road. What? No, he wasn't shot! He's having a stroke or some shit, how the fuck should I know? Yeah, whatever. Just tell them to hurry the fuck up, lady." He flipped the phone closed and stood with his hands on his hips. "You'd better not be fucking with me Jayden. If you are…"

Jayden looked from Blake to Shelby and back again. Blake was angry, impatient. In spite of his obvious close friendship with Shelby, he didn't seem to have any idea that Shelby was involved. Shelby on the other hand, was nervous and upset. He didn't seem to like the idea of Jayden being taken away in an ambulance.

_Of course... If I live then I can tell other people about him being the killer. I don't imagine he's terribly fond of the idea._

Blake shook his head and crossed his arms. "I can't fucking believe this shit. Why the fuck would Shelby shoot you, Jayden? He's known you, what? Five minutes? You can't have pissed him off that bad in five minutes. Not even you. So let's hear it."

Jayden eyed Shelby carefully. The gun wasn't pointed at him anymore, but his finger was still tight on the trigger.

Shelby spoke up, sounding just a little on the nervous side. Or maybe Jayden was just imagining it. "You can't listen to him, Carter."

"No, I really want to hear this. It should be entertaining, at least."

"He said it himself, he's got something wrong with his brain. People with brain injuries are useless as witnesses."

"Last I checked, Scott, this isn't the Grand Jury. Spill it Jayden. The sooner you start spouting off theories, the sooner I can shoot them down for you." Blake had a self-satisfied smirk, the same smile he had in Nathanial's apartment. He thought he knew the outcome of this conversation already.

"Alright, Blake. I'll play your game. I think Mr. Shelby is going to shoot me at his earliest convenience because he knows that I know who the real Origami Killer is."

Blake chuckled. "And what? You think HE'S the killer? Jesus, kid. You must have hit your head harder than I thought. Shelby isn't a murderer. He was my fucking partner for ten years. He's a fucking cop."

Jayden bristled. "A fucking cop is the fucking perp who fucking kidnapped Shaun Mars, or did you already forget what Shaun said about the police officer taking him and putting him in a well?"

"Fuck you, Norman. You're gonna take the word of a snot-nosed little brat over me? I'm telling you, Shelby's not the guy."

Jayden closed his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat.

_How can I make Blake understand? He's going to let this guy walk out of here and we'll never see him again. He's going to keep on killing until he finally disappears. I can't let that happen… But how can I make Blake see him for what he really is?_

A coldness had crept ever so steadily into the center of Jayden's being, a coldness that had nothing to do with the freezing rain and his soaking wet clothes. Shaun Mars was safe. That's what mattered. Jayden had earned a rest. Was that so much to ask? Dealing with Blake for an entire week had earned him a rest. Being beaten up and kicked around had earned him a rest. ARI and triptocaine and overdoses and withdrawals and the nightmare of everything piling up and ripping him apart from the inside and not being able to stop it… that had earned him a rest, surely. Watching his friends die in front of him, knowing the same thing would happen to him… When did it stop?

_It stops when Blake puts this fucker behind bars. Even if it costs me everything. So tell me, Mr. Owl. How many buttons do I press to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a cold blooded killer? Let's find out…_

Jayden smiled. "You know what, Carter, you're right. I have hit my head too many times this week. The profile doesn't fit at all. Scott Sheppard… Well, he's obviously not this man. Sheppard is a pathetic, weak, ineffectual little fucker, a real fucking parasite of a man. He let his brother drown right in front of him. Didn't do a damned thing to save him. He was worse than ineffectual, he was fucking useless."

Shelby twitched. The hand around the gun tightened.

_One…_

"I mean, come on! What kind of a person just sits there and watches his brother die? Nothing but a goddamned parasite. Now, John Sheppard… yeah, Johnny was the strong one. He wouldn't have let Scott drown. If Scott had been in that pipe, John would have done EVERYTHING to save him and he wouldn't have given up. He wasn't scared of anything, was he? He wasn't a failure, he wasn't a quitter like Scott was."

Shelby whispered through gritted teeth, "Shut up."

_Two…_

Blake looked at Shelby, a frown creasing his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're listening to this little shit. He's just trying to get in your head, Scott."

Jayden grinned. "Poor, poor little Scotty. He couldn't save the one person in the world who really understood him. His father never loved him. He was too weak, too fucking embarrassing. Scott was the reason his father drank, why he couldn't hold a job. Two fucking kids in the house… it was too much for him. His life would have been better without Scott. It would have been better if it was just John. He could have loved Johnny. He could have been proud of John, but Scott… Scott was a fucking disappointment. Scott Sheppard has been drowning little boys, looking for a father who could sacrifice himself for his son. But you know what? His own father just couldn't be bothered to get off the fucking couch!"

Shelby was enraged. "What do you know? YOU KNOW NOTHING! You don't understand what it was like!"

_Three…_

"I know… I know that they loved Johnny more than they ever loved you. I know that you were taken away and put in an orphanage after you let Johnny die. They said it was because your parents weren't fit to raise you, but you know what the real reason was? Your mother just couldn't stand the fucking sight of you, you weak, pathetic waste of fucking space—"

Jayden was cut off when Shelby stepped forward and smacked him across the face again with his pistol. He fell to his side with a sharp cry of pain. He didn't bother to push himself up this time. Too much effort for too little reward. The last blow had knocked that bicuspid loose. He spat it out, then wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his wrist.

_Yup. Three._

If Jayden had been feeling better, he might have laughed at the look on Blake's face. It was the first time he'd ever seen the man uncertain of anything. Confusion was an awkward emotion to see in him. All the questions in the world were loaded into one simple word, "Scott?"

Shelby sighed. "He's right, you know."

Jayden hadn't even seen Blake draw his gun, but he had it out now, pointed at the ground, not at Shelby. He was still uncertain. "Scott, put the gun down."

"I'm sorry, Carter."

A gun went off and Jayden tensed, closing his eyes at the pain he could already imagine feeling. His heart seemed to stop in his chest and his ears rang from the echoing explosion. He had to force himself to breathe again. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath.

There was no pain. No new pain anyway.

Jayden opened his eyes. Blake had his arms wrapped around himself. He staggered two or three steps backward and dropped to the ground with a soft groan. Jayden blinked again.

_That wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to shoot Blake, he was supposed to shoot me. That wasn't supposed to happen!_

He opened his eyes and nothing had changed. Blake lay on the ground. Shelby's pistol was still smoking. The distinctive smell of cordite hung in the air, acrid and sharp as the smell of the salt water and the rusted metal. Underneath it all, he could swear he still smelled orchids.

" _Orchids don't have a scent. You know that, right? At least not the ones that he uses."_  Jayden didn't even need to look to see that his subconscious was unhappy with him.

_Sure they do. They smell like death. Death, mud and rainwater. That's what orchids smell like._

NotJayden shrugged.  _"I guess they do at that."_

_Why are you here, I thought I got rid of you._

" _I just wanted to see the look on your face."_

Jayden shook his head. He shouldn't be bothering with cryptic half truths from a phantom of his own imagining. Especially not when Shelby's full attention was on him.

"You made me do that. He didn't have to die." The smoke had cleared from the barrel and Shelby raised it to point at Jayden. "He should have stayed out of this. You should have stayed out of this. I'm sorry I have to do this."

A voice from the darkness startled them both. "Hey! Shelby!"

The large man turned his head to look and was blinded by a flash of light. Jayden squinted, trying to see past the bright sparkle of colors that danced in front of his eyes.

_Madison…?_

" _Yes, that's Madison alright."_

_You KNEW? You knew she was alive and you let me believe…?_

" _Stop being asinine. I didn't know anything until you knew it. I operate on intuition, not the Psychic Hotline. The shape you are looking at is five foot seven, has short brown hair and is almost a perfect voice print match of Madison Paige. And aside from that, in all reality, who the fuck else would it be? It's not like this is Grand Central station, or anything."_

_Good point._

The light flashed again. And again. Now that he was listening for it, the voice was unmistakably Madison's. "How do you like being on film, asshole?"

Shelby snarled and pointed the gun. Jayden, half panicked from seeing that gun swing towards Madison, scrambled up and launched himself at Shelby's knees. It wasn't much, but it was enough to knock the large man off balance. The gun went off and the explosion reverberated in Jayden's skull. He opened his eyes in time to see a large foot coming down straight at his face. He caught it with his hands and twisted his whole body, using every ounce of strength he had to pull Shelby off his feet.

Shelby fell with a cry of outrage and Jayden clambered over him, trying to reach his gun and disarm him before he recovered. He got a knee thrust in his lower belly for his trouble and the larger man easily threw him off as if he was nothing more than a ragdoll. He yelped when he hit the floor.

Somewhere in the distance, Jayden heard a scream of outrage… or was it two screams… a banshee and a grizzly bear, two hellatious battle cries mingling together in a cacophony of fury.

When Jayden pushed himself up to his knees this time, he found himself staring out over the edge of the cliffs, the world dropping away in front of him to the endless sea of green trees below. He swallowed hard as his stomach twisted in fear. The warehouse was gone and with it were the people that he knew should be here.

_No… This can't be happening. Madison is in danger! This can't be happening now!_

" _You know what would make it go away."_

_No…._

Almost instinctively, he backed away from the crumbling edge on his hands and knees, putting distance between himself and the thousand foot drop in front of him. His back prickled at the cold sweat trailing down between his shoulder blades.

" _You know it will make the pain go away, Norman."_

_No, I'm trying to quit._

" _And it's killing you."_

_No!_

" _You're serious?"_

… _Yes…_

Jayden's fingers twitched in fear and desire. Fear for Madison… desire for the pain to go away… Fear of losing her… desire to save her…

" _Take the damned drug, Norman! Now isn't the time to be bewitched by delusions of nobility!"_

_Delusions? Look who's talking._

" _Take the triptocaine, Norman."_

_I don't want to._

The problem was that Jayden DID want to. Very much, he wanted that vial in his pocket. The pain and the pressure were building in his head, unbelievable pain. He could see blood dripping onto the white stones beneath him. He could feel wetness trailing down his neck from his ears. NotJayden was standing just to the side of him, angry and fed up.

" _If you think that dying stupidly will earn you her regard, you have not stopped to think that she can't approve or disapprove of your damned addiction if that murderer kills her and THAT is what is going to happen if you don't take the triptocaine right now."_

"No, I can't…" But his hand was already slipping into his pocket. His fingers were already tightening around the glass tube and pulling it out. The pain had become unbearable and his hands, still cuffed together, were shaking violently, like a man with palsy.

" _TAKE IT NOW!"_

It wasn't his subconscious that finally convinced Jayden. It was the faint sound of a scream. Madison's scream. Fear clutched at his chest as he ripped the stopper out. Metal bit into his wrists at the sharp, jerky movement in his rush to inhale the blue powder and he carelessly dropped the lid and raised the vial to his face.

Sweet relief flooded through him. Instantly, the debilitating pain was eased, soothed away like aloe cream on a burned hand, like ice water to a parched throat. Time slowed down and the crushing agony in his head ceased. He took a breath and let it out, watching as the sun-warmed cliffs and blue skies gave way to the darkened warehouse.

He stood and looked around, feeling the beating of his heart as it slowed to within his control, feeling the world itself slow down to pace him. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the cool, satisfied feeling soak all the way into his being and down his limbs even as the cool rain soothed his fevered skin. Every breath was a joy, a sweet satisfaction. Every drop of rain a soothing balm to his soul.

NotJayden was nowhere to be seen.

_This is nice… But where is Madison?_

Jayden couldn't see Shelby anywhere either. But where had the scream come from?

_There it is again! Outside? On the roof?_

His eyes traced a path up a nearby ladder and onto the catwalk above. When he squinted, he could almost imagine seeing a faint trace of luminescent yellow along the trail. He shifted his attention to Blake, laying on his back with a wide, wet patch of dark red staining the front of his lavender shirt.

_Blake… fucking Blake…_

Jayden knelt beside him and reached forward with his cuffed hands to check his pulse.

_Still alive… I can't just leave him._

Jayden searched Blake's pockets for his cell phone then hit the redial button.

"Nine one one. What's your emergency?"

"My name is Special Agent Norman Jayden. I need back up and an ambulance at 852 Theodore Roosevelt Road. An officer's been shot and the suspect is armed and on foot."

"Sir, there is already an ambulance en route. Can you update me on the status of the stroke victim?"

"Stroke victim? He's not having a fucking stroke, he's been shot!"

"Sir, I need you to stay calm…"

"Stay calm? Fucking Christ, lady, I don't have time for this shit! Look, just tell them to hurry the fuck up, alright?"

Jayden flipped the phone closed just as blood smeared fingers wrapped around his wrist. Blake's eyes opened wide and he tried to sit up but Jayden steadied him, awkwardly holding him down. Blake tried to speak, but he could only cough, choking on air and blood. "Hey, easy Blake, easy… Don't speak yet, just take it easy." Blake's eyes locked onto Jayden's and at the young man's urging, he began to breathe slower. Jayden could easily read the questions written in his expression. "He's not here. Shelby chased Madison up onto the roof. The ambulance will be here in a minute."

Jayden looked up to the roof, impatiently counting in his head how much of a lead Shelby had on him, how many seconds he'd already lost. Fingers pried open a fist he hadn't realized he'd been making. Blake was pressing something small into his hand. The handcuff key.

Blake's eyes caught Jayden's in a steely gaze. His face was pale and pasty from the blood loss and the rain did nothing to hide the sweat that had broken out on his forehead. He whispered insistently, "Go…"

Jayden frowned, already uncuffing himself. "Will you be okay?"

Blake nodded. His voice was stronger this time. "Go get him." It was a command the older man thoroughly expected to be obeyed.

Jayden nodded then struggled out of his leather coat and suit jacket. He folded the jacket quickly and pressed it to the hole in Blake's shirt where the blood was coming through heaviest. He guided Blake's hand over the top of it and pressed down hard. "Keep pressure here. Don't go to sleep. I'll be back in five minutes…" He laid the coat over him to keep off some of the rain. "Blake? Blake, I swear to God if you die on me, I'm carving the words 'I told you so' on your headstone."

Blake's lips twisted in what could be either a sneer or a grimace. "Fuck you, Norman. Get going."

Jayden nodded and grabbed Blake's gun before breaking into a sprint for the ladder. He reached the landing above almost as fast as a monkey climbing a tree, spurred on by his urgency to reach Madison in time. He sprinted down the landing, blood pumping as hard and fast as any river, carrying the triptocaine through his veins with untempered abandon. The rush of adrenaline was greater than any he'd ever had as he practically hurled himself up the final stairway to the roof.

From his vantage point, the world stretched below him, a world of rain and shipping crates. Shelby and Madison weren't anywhere to be seen, even amidst the flashes of lightning that illuminated the abandoned docks below.

_Left or right?_

Jayden turned his head one direction, then back to the other. There was no sense in running headlong in a direction if it was the wrong one.

_I just have to be still and wait for a second._

He had no fear that something would come to him. With the triptocaine warming his veins, his senses were clearer, his intuition sharper. He breathed in the salty air, tingling with anticipation.

Lightning flashed again, followed by a muffled crack that was not thunder.

_Gunshot..._

Jayden twisted to the right and sprinted down the metal catwalk. He reached the end and lowered himself of the landing and dropped to the shipping crate below, distributing his weight as he hit the hard metal as best he could. He shuffled forward and dropped down to the next one, then dropped once more to the ground below, rolling when he landed and springing to his feet in a dead run.

He made his way through the maze of crates, not slowing down until he came across a patch of blood mixed with the rain water. A gun lay discarded and a metal pole not far away. No Shelby. No Madison.

_Dammit! Where the fuck did they get off to?_

A sound caught his attention and he lifted his face to the rain in time to see two figures illuminated by a flash of lightning. They were climbing to the top of a large shipping crane. Madison's slender figure was near the top already.

_Up, she goes. Of all the directions to run, why is it always up? Eventually you always run out of 'up' and dead ends are never good places to hide._

His injured shoulder didn't even twinge as Jayden holstered Blake's gun and set about climbing. Such was the glorious side effect of triptocaine. The cessation of pain was a godsend of itself, but the added energy to pull himself up what must have been ten stories of ladder with the ease of a pole-cat was more blessing just now than he could have hoped for. Without the drugs, Jayden knew he would not have been capable of making this particular journey.

Lightning crashed again as Jayden was pulling himself up onto the platform, eyes taking in quickly everything he could see. A narrow walkway leading to a control booth. The panes of glass around the control booth were shattered and just beyond that, the long sturdy arm of the crane.

Fear squeezed his chest so tight he couldn't breathe. For a moment Jayden could only watch helplessly as Madison struggled out on the arm of the crane with the larger man choking her.

_I can't shoot him… If I shoot him, he'll take her over the edge!_

He pulled the gun out and hurried across the walk way, trying for a better angle. Shelby had his arm around Madison's neck and she was twisting and struggling, fighting with every ounce of her strength.

_Come on, let go of her, let her go… Please let her go… It's no good, I have to take a chance… Holy Christ, don't let me miss._

He aimed the gun, focusing his will, honing his aim like a hawk. He cried out as loud as he could, raising his voice above the thunder, "SHELBY!"

The man startled and turned his attention. His arm loosened from around Madison's neck. It was only a fraction of a second. It was all Jayden needed. He squeezed the trigger.

Thunder crashed loudly overhead accompanying the lightning flash that illuminated the shocked expression on Shelby's face. Then came the recognition in his hazel eyes, then rage, then accusation… and finally the blank expression of death overtaking him. He began to tumble backwards. At the last instant, his hand tightened on Madison's jacket.

Madison screamed and began to tumble with him.

Jayden had already dropped the gun and vaulted over the rail. Madison's terrified gaze locked onto his as she was pulled backward off the edge of the crane. Jayden pushed himself the three or four strides he needed and dove forward, reaching for her in a near blind panic, grabbing at the air.

For one horror filled moment, he thought he'd missed her, but then a searing agony that cut through the pain-free haze of triptocaine wrenched a scream from his lips. A weight that he hadn't been entirely prepared for wrenched his arm down, ripping open the wound in his shoulder and tearing the unhealed flesh apart even as it dragged him forward to the edge. He grabbed at the ledge with his free hand to stop his forward momentum and to keep himself from falling over.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, growling in defiance against the pain, defiance against gravity itself. His grip on whatever he held wasn't a good one and he reached down with his other hand to grab onto it as well. He opened his eyes. He'd grabbed Madison by the hem of her pants leg. It wasn't the best piece of clothing to grab onto, but it was better than nothing.

Madison screamed in terror. "Norman!"

"Maddy! Agh! Don't worry, I've got you, Maddy. I'm not letting go, I promise."

"Norman!" She was dangling precariously and Jayden gripped the jeans tightly with his good hand, then shifted his other grip to her ankle. "Don't let go!"

"I won't let go, sweetheart, I promise… Just hang tight, okay?"

Gritting his teeth in determination he squirmed backwards until he could brace his elbows firmly on the ledge. It wasn't easy, and if he hadn't been high on adrenaline and drugs he probably wouldn't have been able to do it anyway with the condition his body was in, but he hauled her up a few inches at a time, then readjusted his grip on her and did it again.

When Jayden had gotten her to the point where both her legs were on the crane and she could reach up with her arms, she pushed herself back to safety.

Jayden lay on his stomach, too exhausted to move, unable even to summon the will to wrap her in his arms and comfort her.

_This is it… I'm done for the day._

The borrowed strength and false energy that the triptocaine had supplied him with had dissipated with the exertion. Exhaustion flooded in to replace it and wrapped him in a blanket of numbness. He couldn't move, couldn't feel… couldn't think…

He floated on a cloud of nothingness as the world faded away like watercolors dripping off a page. All he knew as he slipped into the blackness was that an angel held him tightly and whispered his name.

"Norman."

_Relief…_


	13. Chapter 13

Madison Paige limped awkwardly through the hospital waiting room. Her broken leg was bound in plaster and she hadn't gotten used to her crutches yet. She hadn't gotten very far before she was distracted by the television in the corner of the lobby. She frowned in consternation as she listened to the news program.

" _Former police officer, Scott Shelby, was officially laid to rest today in Carnaby Memorial Cemetery. Local police are still investigating Shelby's involvement in the resolution of the Origami Killings. Lieutenant Carter Blake, who was shot while rescuing the latest kidnap victim, Shaun Mars, was released from the hospital yesterday to a hero's welcome. Philadelphia Police Department's Captain Perry, has issued a statement ensuring the public that Lieutenant Blake will be properly recognized for his heroic actions. FBI Special Agent Norman Jayden, who was also injured while assisting Lieutenant Blake in the investigation, remains in critical condition. In other news…"_

Madison didn't realize that she had become so engrossed in the news program until a hand at her elbow startled her. "Madison?"

"Ethan!" She started to stumble sideways but Ethan caught her and held her steady until she regained her balance. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to space out like that."

"It's alright." Ethan's eyes followed hers to the television, then softened. "He means a lot to me, too."

"They hardly even mentioned him…" She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes that was becoming all too familiar these days. It was easier to cry than it was to be angry. She didn't have the energy to be angry; the past week had left her feeling deadened and exhausted. The only good night of sleep she'd had this month had been the night that she'd fallen asleep listening to Norman's heartbeat, when he had unconsciously wrapped his arm around her and held her close to him. Since then, there had been a whirlwind of activity, between her own hospital stay and giving statements to the police, and Norman…

_Norman hasn't woken up yet. There's no sense lying to myself anymore. That's the reason I haven't been sleeping. Insomnia is all well and good, but I've fallen hard for a man I've known less than a week and now he's in a coma and I can't sleep because of it._

"How fucked up is that?"

She hadn't realized she'd said those last words out loud until Ethan wrapped his arm around her in a friendly hug, being careful of her crutches. "I know how you feel, Madison. Don't forget, he saved my life, too."

"I just don't understand. He's in a coma, fighting for his life and BLAKE is the hero?"

Ethan shook his head, keeping his tone gentle. "Jayden is fighting for his life because he's a drug addict and he overdosed that night. Maybe the news media doesn't think that sounds particularly heroic."

Madison stiffened and turned an angry glare towards Ethan. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Ethan's gaze widened at her angry tone, but he didn't blink or back down. "I didn't say that I wasn't grateful. I didn't say that I don't owe Jayden everything I have for saving Shaun's life, or for saving mine. I know what he did, Madison. I know what he sacrificed to get where he did. But I also know that it was his choice. I won't cheapen it by saying he didn't know what the consequences were when he made that choice. You shouldn't either."

Madison bowed her head. What he said made sense and she couldn't help nodding in agreement.

_What's wrong with me? Last week I was berating him myself for doing drugs, now I'm practically biting Ethan's head off to defend him._

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I don't know why I'm being this way. What I meant to say is that it wasn't the drugs. The doctors called it an overdose, but it wasn't from the drugs. It was that damned computer. Every time he put those glasses on, he was playing Russian Roulette with his life and he knew it, but he wouldn't stop. Triptocaine just kept the gun from firing. I guess I think that's a little more heroic than Blake beating the shit out of you to make you confess to a crime you didn't commit. Call me silly."

"It's okay, Madison. I'm sorry I called him an addict."

"No, you're right. He IS an addict… but he's in the hospital now and they know about his addiction and he's going to get help. That's all there is to it, right?"

"You know, I really don't think it works like that. You can't force somebody to give up an addiction just because you want them to. It needs to be his choice. And if you force him to choose between you and the drugs, I think you might just be setting yourself up to get hurt."

"Then I guess I'm going to get hurt. I'm not going to make him choose, but I'm not giving up on him, either. I can be supportive, I can help him get through this."

_If he ever wakes up again._

Madison bit her lip, fighting back a sob. She dropped her head so Ethan wouldn't see her struggle.

He put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a comforting, friendly pat. "Alright. As long as you know what you're doing. What time do you want me to pick you up?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Two hours? Maybe three?"

"When I pick Shaun up from school, I'm taking him to see a movie. We'll come by and get you afterward, how does that sound?"

Madison nodded and forced a smile. "That sounds great. Thank you. For everything. I appreciate everything you're doing for me, I really do."

"I don't mind. What are friends for, right? As soon as that plaster comes off, though, you're taking me for a ride on your motorcycle. Don't forget."

"I won't forget." Now her smile was genuine. She held her crutches in one hand and hugged him with the other. "Thanks."

Ethan hugged her back. "No problem. I'll see you in a bit."

"See ya." Madison watched him go, then turned to limp carefully towards the nurse's station. With everything that had been going on, this was her first time coming to see him since the night he'd saved her from Shelby. The last glimpse she'd had of him had been as they wheeled him off the ambulance and into the emergency room.

She couldn't remember to this day how she had gotten him down off that crane with her leg broken as it was and his dead weight to encumber her. She had seen the police cars and the ambulances pull up to the warehouse and had known they wouldn't have found her and Norman in time, so she had grit her teeth and dragged him down, one rung at a time, telling herself that he wasn't as heavy as he should be and every second that she took was one less second he had to live. It was almost scarier going down the ladder than it had been going up with Scott Shelby hot on her heels trying to kill her.

They'd let her ride in the ambulance with him. She'd held onto his hand the entire way, like it was a lifeline connecting him to her. She hadn't forgotten how fragile his grip on reality was the last time he'd been at the mercy of his hallucinations, or his tenuous grasp on life as she'd held him in the shower fighting his fever and the racing of his heart. She'd held onto him, memorizing every feature of his face, every detail of his hand in hers, only letting go when his heart had stopped and the EMT's had had to shock him back to life.

The last glimpse Madison had of Norman had been blurred with tears and she'd been terrified that it would be her last memory of him. The thought of it even now made her want to crumple into a ball and wail. She steeled herself and when she spoke, she sounded far more certain and at ease than she was feeling. "I'm looking for Norman Jayden's room? I was told it was in this ward."

The nurse behind the desk didn't look up from the chart she was making notes on. "Are you family?"

The lie came easily and quickly. "Yes. He's my fiancé."

Now the nurse did glance up and the look she gave Madison made her heart clench.

_Pity… sympathy... She feels sorry for me because she knows how badly he's doing. God, this was a mistake!_

"He's in 7B. His attending nurse is on lunch break, but she'll be in to speak with you about his condition later, if you'd like."

Madison swallowed. "That would be great. Thanks."

The nurse nodded and went back to her chart. Madison readjusted her crutches and limped down the hallway, anxiety rising in her like the tide. Every room she glanced at was filled with sick people, people connected to tubes and machines.

_This is a mistake… a horrible, horrible mistake! What the hell are you doing here, girl? You shouldn't be here! Fiance? What were you thinking?_

Almost too quickly, Norman's room was right in front of her. The door was open and she could hear someone inside talking. The woman had a rich, musical voice. She could only pick up the faintest trace of Boston in her accent. "Here's a poem that you always liked, Norman. It was one of your father's favorites, remember? 'Gaily bedight, a gallant knight in sunshine and in shadow had journeyed long, singing a song, in search of El Dorado."

Madison hopped a step into the room. There was nobody in the bed nearest the door and the curtain was pulled between the two halves of the room. She hopped another step forward until she could peek around the curtain and see the woman sitting in the chair by the bed. Her hair was fiery red and her skin was pale and freckled. She wore tiny gold rimmed glasses on her delicate nose. She had the same pale blue eyes that Norman had, the same curvature of the brow. Her fingers were long and slender like Norman's were and they held onto a thick book with leather binding and she carefully turned the pages, not looking up to see Madison peering at her curiously.

"But he grew old, this knight so bold, and o'er his heart a shadow… fell as he found no sign of ground that looked like El Dorado. When his strength failed him at length, he met a pilgrim shadow. 'Shadow,' said he, 'where can it be, this land of El Dorado?' 'Over the mountains of the moon and down the valley of the shadow, ride boldly ride,' the shade replied, 'if you seek El Dorado.'"

Madison found herself drawn forward while the woman spoke. Now she could see the bed and the man laying peacefully in it. He was pale, the parts of his face that weren't covered in fading bruises, so much paler against the white hospital sheets than he was in the ambulance, even without all the blood from his nose and eyes covering his face. The whole left side of his face was an irregular patch of yellow and green with faint traces of purple. The rest of him was almost as white as the bandage that wrapped around his forehead just under his russet colored bangs. There was no full respirator like Madison expected there to be on a person in a coma, just a thin oxygen tube connected to his nose and a heart monitor that beeped steadily with his slow pulse. Bags of saline solution and other medications dripped steadily down a tube attached to his arm.

In all reality, he just looked… asleep. Like he would wake up at any minute. Madison almost wanted to hold her breath as if the added stillness might help.

The woman closed the book and set it down on the nearby table. She reached over and stroked Norman's cheek and brushed his bangs away from his face.

"Very pretty, isn't it? I remember the first time your father made me watch that John Wayne movie, El Dorado. We argued over who the leading man was. I was always a Robert Mitchum girl myself. I don't remember which one of us won the argument. It might have been Henry. I had to let him win at some things, you see. If I won all the time, it wasn't any fun. And he did have a good argument in John Wayne's favor. 'Everyone needs a little bit of swagger.' That's what he said. Do you remember him saying that, sweety? You were so young when he died. I wish you could have known him better. He would have been so proud of you, Norman, but I'll let you in on a secret. I'm proud enough for both of us. I just wish you would wake up, darling. How about another story? I haven't read the Tell-Tale Heart to you in ages. That's a good one. Let's see…"

She opened the book again and flipped through some of the pages before looking up and seeing Madison standing in the doorway.

The woman let out a startled cry. "Oh! Oh my, I didn't realize anyone was there."

Madison immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to intrude."

"Not at all." It was easy to see the woman was curious. "My name is Monica Jayden. And you are?"

"Madison Paige. Norman and I are friends."

Monica's face broke into a soft smile. "Are you really?"

"Yes. Well… we're not CLOSE friends, I mean, we only met a few days ago… But, I'd like to think that we're good friends."

"He must like you."

Madison took another step further into the room, curiosity bubbling up in her. "What makes you say that?"

"I love my son dearly, Miss Paige, but I'm well aware of his faults. He's arrogant and has little tolerance for foolish people. You must have done something dramatic to impress him if he made an effort to be charming."

Madison thought back to when they had first met and she had saved his life by beating the shit out of Dr. Death with a baseball bat.

_Dramatic? Yeah, probably._

"I take it he doesn't have many friends, then?"

"No. Not many. He was always a very standoffish child. Very quiet. Very studious. A lot like his father. Don't get me wrong, dear, he's a very sweet boy when you get to know him, but he rarely takes the time to cultivate relationships. He was always more interested in books than in friends. I tried everything I could. Boy scouts, karate lessons… I even managed to get him to try out for the hockey team. He lasted a week and a half before the coach told me not to bring him back. Poor child. Boys can be cruel at that age. But listen to me going on! How did the two of you meet?"

Madison sat down in the empty chair, stretching her plastered leg out in front of her and setting her crutches against the wall beside her. "It wasn't… well, it wasn't anything romantic. He showed up on a white horse and rescued me from a dragon. Isn't that how everyone meets?"

Monica smiled. "A dragon! Well, that certainly is dramatic. I've never really known my boy to go chasing dragons. School bullies and criminals, serial killers certainly, but dragons are a step above his usual prey. I should get him a Saint George medallion for his bracelet if he's going to be slaying dragons on a regular basis."

Madison tilted her head. "I don't remember seeing him wearing a bracelet."

_As much as I was trying NOT to focus on what he wasn't wearing in the shower, I think I would have noticed a bracelet._

"It's more like a chain really. Just something I gave him long ago to carry his Saint's medallions on."

"You're talking about Catholic saints, right?" The woman nodded and Madison let out a small laugh. "It's strange. I never really thought of him as Catholic."

"Norman? Oh, he's not. He's more of a Misotheist, really. He believes in God just enough to hate Him for what happened to his father. I had to drag him to Mass practically by the scruff of his neck. He hated it with a passion. There were a lot of arguments over that one, believe me. Norman finally got his way by getting himself excommunicated from our church. When he sets his mind to winning an argument, he's generally quite stubborn about it. And VERY thorough."

Madison felt a small smile tugging at her lips as she tried to imagine what a ten year old Norman would have done to upset a priest enough to be excommunicated. "I haven't lost an argument to him yet."

Monica laughed, a truly musical sound. "My dear, has it really never occurred to you that he would let you win? No, I can see it hasn't. That's another gift my boy has, and one you'd best be careful of. He's very good at letting you hear what you think you want to hear, at telling just enough of the truth that you don't think to question whether he's telling all of it or not. He's very good at keeping his secrets to himself."

"He told me about his drug problem. He said he spent six months in rehab."

Monica's glacier blue eyes regarded her with keen interest. "He must really like you if he told you about that. It's not something I think he talks about with anyone much. He certainly never tells me about it. Fortunately, I'm on very good speaking terms with Norman's supervisor. He keeps me informed in exchange for a box of my chocolate caramels now and again. I'd be a very poor mother if I didn't know what my secret squirrel was up to, even when he's at his sneakiest." Her fond smile faded slowly. "The drug problem and the rehab clinics are only a small part of the story. It was a very hard time for him. Especially as far as Sandra is concerned."

"Okay, you got me. He never told me about Sandra."

"Sandra was Norman's high school sweetheart. They were as inseparable as cookies and milk, those two. The wedding was going to be that summer, actually. Perhaps it was harder for her than it was for the rest of us. She found out she was pregnant only a few days after he was admitted to the hospital. The wedding was canceled because of Norman's health and Sandra refused to have a child out of wedlock so she aborted the baby."

Madison gasped. "Oh, God… That's horrible."

"My son didn't take it very well. Neither did I for that matter. It would have been hard enough for him if that was where it ended."

"I take it there was more?"

"Sandra fell in love with Norman's drug rehab councilor. I believe they're married now and have a child."

Madison was shocked into silence.

_I had no idea… Of course, he never told me any of that, but… Why didn't SAM tell me? Dammit, Sam! Of all the times to let me down, you had to pick this one?_

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jayden."

Monica smiled gently. "You may wonder why I would tell these things to a complete stranger, Miss Paige, but I'm trying to explain. You're very welcome to stay if you wish, but if you aren't going to BE here, I would just as soon not have you here. Do you understand?" Her eyes flashed, colder than shards of ice as she stared intently at Madison.

Madison couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under that piercing stare.  _That is one woman I would NOT want to make an enemy of._

"Of course. You're just trying to protect him, but I know about his drug problem. I won't lie and say it didn't bother me at first, but I… I know that… What he did to himself to put him in this hospital bed, he did it to save lives. He did it to save MY life. I can't… I WON'T leave him to get through this alone. And I certainly won't run off with his drug councilor."

What she said must have pleased the older woman, or at least satisfied her somehow, because her arctic glare once again softened to a warmer blue. She nodded once, firmly, accepting Madison's words as an agreement before she returned her attention to her son.

"I wish he would wake up, but the doctors tell me that he's doing as well as can be expected. I don't know how well they expect him to do… They had to drill a hole in his skull to relieve the pressure on his brain. They're… they're still giving him triptocaine to keep… Well. They don't want him going through drug withdrawals while he's recovering, do they?"

Madison plucked at a strand of hair that fell across his brow. "You would think they would have shaved his head if they needed to drill a hole in it." It was hard, hearing those words come out of her mouth as casually as if she was talking about drilling a hole through a piece of furniture.

"It was a very small hole. They only shaved a small patch of his hair."

Madison sniffled as the tears suddenly hit her. "This isn't how this is supposed to work, you know? He's not supposed to be in the hospital; he's supposed to be in his hotel room telling me how much he absolutely hates hospitals and that he refuses to be taken to one. He's supposed to be telling me that he's perfectly fine, he's supposed to be arguing with me over eating chicken soup for breakfast, not… not laying here like this."

Monica's voice was quiet, the look in her eyes baring just the shadow of grief and regret. "You do know him well."

"I'm sorry… This has to be so much harder on you and here I am crying about stupid things and I've only known him a few days. I'm so sorry."

"You saved his life, Miss Paige. That is a very precious gift you've given me. Don't discount yourself on account of me."

Madison shook her head. "How could you know about that? I didn't even tell the police…"

Monica smiled and stood, brushing a tear from her cheek with the palm of her hand in an achingly familiar gesture, one Madison had seen only a few nights before in a darkened hotel room when she sat on a bed and shared a bottle of vodka with a man she had been determined to not like. "Dillon Savich keeps me VERY informed. The man certainly likes his caramels and I make the best. Well! I'm going down to the cafeteria for some coffee, dear. Would you like something?"

Madison shook her head. Monica patted her on the shoulder as she passed, leaving her alone in the room with a very silent, very still Norman. She shifted in the chair, awkwardly stretching her plastered leg in front of her.

She must have sat there for a good five minutes before she reached out and took his hand. It was cold. His hands were always cold, even when he was burning up from fever. She squeezed it gently.

"Hey there, Galahad. How are you doing?" Madison wanted to laugh at her own absurdity. "It could be going better for me, too, believe me."

_It isn't fair! It isn't fair for him to invade my life and make me like him so much in such a short time and then leave me so soon!_

"Why did you do it? Was it really to save me? I wish you hadn't. Do you know how guilty I'm going to feel if you don't wake up? That's not fair and you know it. I need you to wake up so I won't feel guilty anymore."

The heart monitor beeped slowly. Madison sighed and settled in for a long wait.


	14. Chapter 14

Jayden didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but he knew that it must have been a long time. He didn't feel tired, which was a surprise. It seemed like it had been a long time since the last time that he hadn't felt tired. He also knew that he was in the hospital. There was something about the too sharp smell of purified oxygen that screamed 'sanitization' in his brain. His right arm itched and he reached up to scratch it only to find that his left arm couldn't move.

_That's a little odd…_

He tried one more time, just to satisfy his curiosity. Sure enough, his left arm was completely immobile. His right arm seemed to work, but moving it only made the itching worse. Judging from past experiences, he was fairly certain it was nothing more than an obnoxious number of needles and tubes stuck haphazardly into his flesh that was bothering him so much.

_Still, doesn't hurt to have a look._

The light bothered him, but he forced his eyes open, patiently waiting while the world pulsed blearily into focus. Warm fingers wrapped around his wrist and a soft, hopeful voice whispered, "Norman…?"

His vision still wasn't cooperating very well, but he was sure he knew that voice. He squeezed the fingers that held his hand. They were smooth and delicate, a woman's hand. The voice repeated itself, "Norman...? Norman, can you hear me?"

It would have been nice if he could have answered her, but getting his eyes open was difficult enough. Accomplishing much more than that, for the moment at least, was out of the question. He squeezed the fingers again and was rewarded by a delicate touch to his forehead, the comforting feeling of his hair being gently brushed back. It was pleasant. The tenderness and affection from just that one touch were enough to make him try harder to get his eyes open. Brown doe eyes stared hard into his own and suddenly it was easier to focus. The worried expression on the woman's face melted into a smile.

"There you are, Galahad."

With a final effort, the world settled into focus and Jayden could see Madison smiling down at him.

"D...Drea...?" His throat closed up before he could finish the word and he choked off the last few syllables.

"No, you aren't dreaming. At least not right now. I guess it must seem like a dream after being out for so long."

Jayden tried to speak again. "H...how...?" He broke off coughing again.

Madison frowned. "Let me get you some water." She leaned away from his view for a moment and Jayden closed his eyes. The light was too bright after being asleep so long and his eyes were beginning to water from the irritation. It was only a moment before he felt a plastic straw pressed against his lips. He sucked down some water. It was lukewarm, but it still felt nice to his sore throat. He swallowed a few more gulps of water before Madison's soft voice broke the silence. "Hey, easy there, Galahad. Not too much at once, okay?"

The straw was taken away, but Jayden already felt much better, though his voice still sounded oddly rusty when he spoke, "How long?"

"It's been about five weeks. Five or six, something like that. Long enough..." Madison bit her lip as if she was about to say something and thought better of it. "Long enough for the news anchors to get bored. They've gone onto bigger and better things. NOT long enough for my cast to be off, yet, though, so I guess you get bonus points for that."

"Five weeks? Beat my record... Last time... s'only three weeks." The hand that gently gripped his fingers pulled away and Madison disappeared from his view. Sudden panic at being left alone flared up in his chest and he tried to reach for her but his fingers couldn't seem to find her. "Joking, Maddy."

Worried eyes returned to his field of vision and his hand was taken again. "Oh, I know you were joking. I was just pressing the call button. The nurse is going to want to poke and prod you a bit. Did you think I was leaving?"

"Was... a little worried."

Madison smiled. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Galahad. If your mother can't scare me off, your sarcastic humor doesn't stand a chance."

"Mom was here?"

"Yes, she was. She was worried about you."

Jayden couldn't help a soft groan from escaping him. "Please, please tell me she wasn't… wasn't feeding you some ludicrous… sob story about me..."

Madison couldn't help but smile. "She seems very sweet."

"She does, but, don't believe any of it." His throat was beginning to feel much better and Jayden let Madison take the cup away. "I mean, she IS sweet, but she's also a shiesty, manipulative, she-creature who seems to have made it her mission in life to ensure that I never get laid again."

"Oh, I don't think she was that bad."

Just then, a nurse came hurrying in with a smile and a clipboard. Jayden's face twitched uncomfortably. Nurses always carried clipboards. Clipboards always meant unpleasant things. He sighed in resignation, though refused to relinquish his grip on Madison's hand. Any moment, the cheerfully empty words would start pouring forth.

"Good morning, Mr. Jayden! It's so good to finally meet you!"

_And there they are..._

There were a million and a half things that Jayden would have rather been doing than listening to nurses and their idle chatter.

_Well..._

Jayden couldn't help but smile, glancing over at Madison in the seat next to his bed.

_Listening to Nurse Paige chattering about anything and everything might be an enjoyable endeavor._

"Mr. Jayden, can you understand what I'm saying?"

Jayden's attention snapped back to the one with the clipboard. "I could if I was bothering to listen, I suppose."

The nurse's smile turned almost brittle, but to her credit, did not quite falter.

"Mr. Jayden – "

"No, you're right. That was rude, I'm sorry."

"I know it may not seem like it, Mr. Jayden, but you did have brain surgery while you were asleep, it would be nice if I could tell your doctor that you aren't suffering any lasting damage. I can only do that if you take my questions seriously."

Jayden squeezed Madison's fingers quickly while schooling his features to a look of perfect seriousness.

"Madame, you have my undivided attention."

Jayden patiently answered her questions as truthfully as he could, wishing that he was anywhere else but where he was at. Finally, when being on the wrong end of an interrogation room with Carter Blake was just starting to seem like an improvement, the nurse finished her questions, wrote a few notes on that clipboard and left. Jayden breathed a sigh of relief and quirked a smile at Madison accompanied by a teasingly reproachful glare.

"This is your fault, you know..."

Wincing at each twinge of pain, he struggled to sit up so that he could have a normal conversation where he wasn't lying flat on his back.

Madison raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Oh, really? I would love to hear your reasoning. I seem to recall insisting that you check into the hospital well before your brain started to fry."

"You called me Galahad..." Jayden smiled, his eyes sparking with humor while Madison frowned, struggling to make the connection. "You jinxed me. Galahad dies after he finds the Holy Grail. I would have been just fine if you hadn't jinxed me."

"I jinxed you? You really think that argument's gonna fly?" Madison couldn't help grinning. "Even if you hadn't gotten your head all screwed up with the ARI overload, you still would have been pulverized by that junkyard guy. AND there was getting skewered by a katana. I had nothing to do with either of those."

Jayden chuckled. "Yeah, but there's that sword connection. If you hadn't called me Galahad, the cosmic irony of the universe wouldn't have needed to pull a sword on me, of all things. Do you know what the chances are of a field agent getting attacked with a sword? Both of those instances can be attributed to you jinxing me."

"May I remind you that you got hit with a baseball bat BEFORE you even met me? You don't have a very good track record of being 'just fine'."

Jayden shrugged the only shoulder he was capable of moving. "I only got hit by the bat because I was looking for you because YOU got tied up by that creepy psycho doctor guy."

"I was perfectly capable of getting out by myself, thank you, but your assistance was both gallant and appreciated. And it wouldn't have been necessary if I hadn't had to investigate on my own because you official types were barking up the wrong tree and trying to arrest Ethan. Furthermore, I maintain that you wouldn't be in nearly so bad shape if you had gone to the doctor in the first place."

Jayden snorted. "If I had done that, we wouldn't have had a very happy ending. Ethan would have died to save Shaun. Scott Sheppard would have gotten away and would have kept on killing. But, in the interest of being gallant, I shall concede defeat and allow you to keep your illusions. You are correct, I should have gone to the hospital. You get to say 'I told you so' and gleefully bask in my contrition."

Madison stroked the smooth skin on the back of his hand before wrapping her fingers around his palm and squeezing. "I'm not so sure that I'm in the mood to bask gleefully over you being in the hospital, but compared to the alternative...? It's not as much fun when you're saying 'I told you so' to a tombstone. I'm just thankful that you're alive enough to acknowledge my superiority in this matter."

Jayden sighed, eyes crinkling slightly. "Superiority duly acknowledged."

"Alright then. Now that that's settled..." Madison squeezed his hand again, reassuring herself that he was here, he was awake and talking, and everything was going to be alright. "How are you feeling?"

Jayden's eyebrows shot up. "That a rhetorical question?"

"Well... aside from being fed through a grinder. How's your head feel?"

Jayden took a breath and let it out, staring up at the ceiling while he evaluated. "Hmm. Well... I suppose not as bad as it could be feeling all things considering. I thought I wasn't coming back from that last trip."

"You almost didn't. It was pretty bad."

"I'm sorry I put you through that."

Madison nodded. "Just, erm... just don't do it again, alright?"

"I'll try not to." Jayden coughed and didn't even have to ask for the water this time before Madison held it for him. He took a long sip from the straw before his eyebrows drew together in a purely contemplative frown. "So... uhm."

"So?"

"So... does the fact that you're here mean that you... uh, want to, erm..." Jayden looked up at the ceiling. "Are you still interested in meeting my cat?"

Madison grinned. "Well, since I already got the 'Be good to my boy or I'll skin you alive' speech from your mother, I may as well meet the rest of the family..."

"Oh, no. She didn't..."

"Yeah, she did."

"Christ... She didn't tell you about Sandra, did she?"

Madison tilted her head and brushed the fringe of her bangs out of her face. "She might have mentioned somebody named Sandra."

Jayden groaned and closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillows a bit. "Could you just..." He winced and shifted again. "Could you do me a favor and ignore everything she said about me? I guarantee it wasn't quite as much of a sob story as she made it out to be."

Madison leaned forward, intrigued in spite of herself and genuinely interested. It had nothing to do with her reporter's instinct trying to get to the bottom of the story. "Really? So, Sandra didn't call off your engagement to run off with your physical therapist?"

Jayden laughed and rubbed his hand down over his face. "No, she did. That is exactly one hundred percent true. But what you don't realize about that story... Have I mentioned that I love my mom?" Jayden smiled, but it was a bit strained with fond exasperation. "I send her flowers every mother's day and not a moment goes by that I'm not infinitely grateful for her in every way, but you have to understand that there's a certain amount of manipulative deviousness that runs in my family."

Now Madison was really intrigued. "Why would she lie?"

"She didn't lie... she just didn't tell you that my physical therapist was a woman."

Madison blinked. "That's..."

"Like the punch line of a really terrible joke? Oh, believe me, I know." Jayden chuckled, trying to move his hand to run through his hair, forgetting for a moment that it was immobile and the other wasn't much better. "When did my life turn into a soap opera?"

Madison rubbed his hand. "Hmm... I don't really think so. I mean... if it WAS a soap opera, we would have found out that... maybe that Ethan had an evil twin that was committing the crimes and that I had cancer which was diagnosed before my sister died giving me a bone transplant and that you have an inoperable brain tumor, but that's ok because you have a wickedly handsome cousin that looks just like you and after you died I could cry in his arms and then have Carter Blake's babies which nobody will find out about until next season. I think we made out considerably better than the soap opera crowd."

Jayden blinked. "Thanks, Maddy. Now I have to scrub my brain out with bleach. Blake? Seriously? You had to go there?"

Madison grinned. "Consider it a down payment."

"A down payment? On what?"

"On all the ways I'm going to pay you back for what you put me through this week."

Jayden sighed. "Christ. Can't this wait until after I get through rehab?"

She shook her head. "Revenge is a dish best served cold. Just be grateful that I'm sticking around long enough to serve it to you." She squeezed his hand and Jayden smiled.

"So you are? Sticking around then?" Jayden could feel his energy flagging, but he was afraid that if he shut his eyes, Madison would use the opportunity to run screaming from him and his issues.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

Jayden yawned, eyes beginning to flicker as they drifted shut against his will. "Therapy. Lots and lots of therapy. Then rehab, then more therapy. Won't be much fun."

"Getting chased up a crane by Scott Shelby wasn't much fun. Carrying you back down? Definitely not much fun. Chasing the silver lining in this shit storm? May not be much fun, but it's worth doing." She brushed his bangs back so she could kiss him softly on the forehead. "Get some rest, Galahad. We've got plenty of time to hash this out."

Jayden nodded, gaze focusing on the window and the raindrops trailing down the glass. It was still raining, but for some reason, that didn't bother him anymore.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The End


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